Star Trek: Nightingale Trial By Fire
by David Lowbridge
Summary: Weeks after the end of the Dominion Wars a Federation Starship the USS Brave disappears. Captain John Wilcox and his barely completed newly commissioned USS Nightingale are assigned to locate the missing vessel and save the crew.
1. Chapter 1

**Stardate 53104.8 **

**USS Nightingale, docked at Utopia Plantia, transporter room 1**

It took seconds for the transporter beam to completely remove itself from John's body. He wouldn't look during transport, not after that one bad experience, but he swore every time he went through the damn contraception that he could still feel the energy swirl around him. As he slowly opened his eyes he saw the shiny transporter room in perfect clarity, he was safe. Stepping off the pad he walked down to the slightly bulgy man stood at the bottom. "Welcome aboard, Captain." John was greeted by him, in a warm friendly voice.

"Thank you Admiral," John replied as he smiled back. Admiral Jenkins had been an old commander on the Washington, when John was chief helmsman, and the two had built up a good working relationship during their four year service together. "I see you got the red carpet down in time," John joked to Jenkins referring to the lack of people in the room. Apart from the two men, only the transporter chief stood in the room, at attention.

"Well Captain, I didn't want to overwhelm you on your first day in command." Jenkins smiled. "How does it feel to have one?"

John walked round the room looking at all the fixtures, "A little strange to be honest sir," John replied hesitating a little as he strode around the room purposefully, "I never thought I would make it past Lieutenant, to be honest."

"Lucky for you, you have friends in high places." The admiral gave another cheeky laugh which John felt himself return instinctively. Jenkins stretched his arm out towards the door. "Should we proceed with the tour, there is a lot to show you John." John smiled and followed the direction of the arm.  
Walking out on to a carpeted walkway, John felt the air tasted electric with freshly laid carpet and newly placed equipment, "Still have to take the sawdust off," Jenkins remarked as both the senior officers passed a couple of crewman working at a junction, "but she is a good ship, do her job well. She'll make warp 9.99 if you need to."

John touched his hand down one wall, "Oh she'll be fast alright," John said smiling, "didn't I hear the St Bernard broke Starfleet's record last week?"

The Admiral smiled and continued to walk down the corridor, "Yep the older sister certainly did do well for us. Captain T'lorek has done wonders with that ship." The Admiral paused at a turbolift junction and pressed the button, "of course Captain you'll want to make some changes." John smiled back before the admiral continued, "It's only natural for a new captain, put their mark on their ship and all that."

The turbolift doors opened and in walked the admiral and John, he was still felling slightly overwhelmed by looking at his command for the first time. The doors slide silently shut leaving the two men in the circular lift. "Bridge," the admiral commanded and the lift started a silky motion. "Wait until you see the bridge." The admiral gave another friendly smile.

**Stardate 53104.8 **

**USS Nightingale, docked at Utopia Plantia, Bridge**

It took just a few seconds for the bridge to appear before John, he stepped onto the bridge amongst a hive of activity, crewmen and officers doing various tasks across the bridge and a loud clutter of noise, voices and tools at work.

"Captain on the bridge," shouted an Andorian woman stood next to a console to the right of the turbolift door. The room suddenly came to a standstill with the booming voice command, everyone was stood at attention. John looked round at the at the faces, some of whom seemed to be attempting not to stare at their new commander, John pondered for a moment on how long he could keep them all at attention, stiff in their uniforms.

"At ease," John said after his moment of cruelness had passed, he couldn't gain their respect by being evil to the crew.

The Andorian approached the Captain and the Admiral, "This is Lieutenant Shrak," commented Jenkins, "your Tactical Officer." The young woman wore the insignia of a Junior Lieutenant and with her white hair it shone in the bright lights of the bridge. John had requested her on the crew, partly because of her ability as a tactical officer but also because she, according to her former commanding officers, spoke bluntly - something that John admired.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Lieutenant," John said to the blue skinned woman. Shrak had obvious aggressive tendencies just like any other Andorian, but John could feel an unnerving feel that she was more aggressive than the usual Andorian.

Shrak's antennae moved forward, a sure sign that she was paying complete attention to the two men that were standing in front of her. "Captain," she said politely but with a crisp, professional tone that held the aggressive undertones, "tactical systems are almost ready for departure."

"You solved that problem with the weapon control systems?" the admiral interrupted.  
Shrak quickly turned her head in a sharp movement, her antennae straightened up, "Yes Admiral," she replied quickly.

"Very well Lieutenant," John wanted to end the conversation quickly, "you better get on with your work, there's still is a lot to do before we set sail." The Andorian nodded an almost salute like response and walked back to what John recognised as a small station for tactical and security.

John moved over to his chair situated in the centre of the bridge, far away from the ears of his tactical officer, "A bit aggressive?" John asked in a low voice.

"The Andorian way," the admiral whispered back, "they like it." Jenkins smiled again.

John looked at the chair and felt the arm rest before he carefully slid himself into the furniture. The warmth of the cover and design of the bridge made him feel as if the ship was hugging him at that moment, a true bonding session between Captain and ship. "Best view in the house," John said smiling.

"Always is," Jenkins replied, amusement ripe on his face. "The St Bernards class vessel is unique in the way that we've made space for the captain's office and quarters on the same deck as the bridge, as well as the executive officer's office and quarters." The Admiral had a sense of pride in his voice; he had been the lead designer in the team that had designed the St Bernards class vessel and felt pride in his accomplishments with the class.

"This entire ship has been designed in order to improve response times from crews in an emergency," the Admiral paused as he walked towards the helm station at the front of the bridge where a woman was working on the under panel, "you know it can take some crewmembers ten minutes to reach their stations on the Galaxy class ship?" the Admiral asked John, "this ship John, the most it would take a person to reach their duty station is two minutes."

"I did read about the interesting design," John commenting, "Most crew on the deck where their duty station is, the medical deck has its own transporter and is easily accessible from the shuttlebay."

The Admiral pointed to a door on the port side of the bridge; there was another on the starboard section almost a mirror reflection. The port door read Captain's Ready Room and the starboard read Executive Officer's Office. It was not hard to tell which was which. "We've also installed a new type of command and control room just behind the bridge," the Admiral pointed to a door in the corner, "it has the processing power to direct and control a fleet of over a thousand ships."

John imagined what it would be like to be in a fleet that size, even in the Dominion War, which only weeks before had ended, fleets of that size were rare.

The admiral walked around a bit as John took a look around his bridge from the comfort of his chair. From that position John could see nearly every station, tactical was behind him to his right, with an operations post to his left behind. One helmsman sat directly in front of John while science was to his left and an additional couple of posts were to his right. Directly on his right was a space for the executive officer to sit. It was a nice looking bridge, he thought to himself, small, it seemed as if they had attempted to mix the bridge of the Intrepid class vessel into something as small as the old NX class vessel. John stood up and walked over to the door that stated it was his ready room and walked in.

Jenkins had followed him in. John stood in amazement as he could barely move before he hit the chair in front of his desk, which had barely enough room for his chair on the other side. The admiral attempted to squeeze in next to him. "Believe it or not, you could have a meeting with three people in here?" Jenkins remarked, "I tested it last week."

"What did you have, someone hanging on the ceiling?" John asked with a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice. "There's barely anything in here," John asked pointed a table which was just big enough for a couple of padds and the small computer terminal already on the desk.

Jenkins smiled back and pressed a button on the side of the room, it opened out in to what John thought was nothing more than a cupboard. In it was a small bunk bed, a couple of draws and a small table, it was his quarters. "You think this is impressive?" John stated quickly, rubbing his hand down the left wall that had nothing but a small fold up table against the wall and a small replicator.  
"We've had to limit some personal space in order to design the St Bernards class exactly as we wanted it." The Admiral stated, "In order to get the evacuation limit up to what we needed, something had to go, we've already compromised on weapons, shields need to be high spec and the science labs are minimum to say the least."

"So that left crew relaxation," John stated looking up at the ceiling.

"You've got a holodeck, more than on the defiant class," Jenkins said moving out of the quarters with John following. Walking on to the bridge John smiled at the busy work that going around the whole bridge.

"There is something that I need to speak to you about Captain," Jenkins' voice suddenly turned from the friendly one it had been before hand to one of more serious. "Do you know of the USS Brave?"  
John paused for a moment, raking his memory for some sort of recollection of what the vessel might be for. "If memory serves it's an Intrepid class vessel that patrols near the Gorn border. Captain T'lock is in command isn't he?" John paused looking on the face of the Admiral, seeing if he was impressed with the correct answer, or disgusted by a wrong answer, there was nothing on the face that suggested either had occurred.

"It went missing," Jenkins said, "We haven't heard from it for about six days." Jenkins looked worried for a second that sent a chill down the spine of John, never before had John seen such emotion on the Admiral's face.

"You're going to tell me that we're going out there aren't you?" John said concerned, "Sir with all due respect, you said yourself, the sawdust is still on the ship, Lieutenant V'ras said to me yesterday that we've got a week until we're fully operational."

"You'll have to make some of the amendments on the way."

John wanted to push that, he knew he needed more time, he knew the ship needed more time, but if Command had made a decision that was it, he went. "Some of my senior crew aren't even in the system yet, my Operations officer, helmsman." John said turning round looking at the bridge crew who were still at work.

"I've reassigned Lieutenant Junior Grade Chloe Visitor as your helmsman," Jenkins smiled, "she is darn good pilot John, you're lucky to have her." Jenkins paused, "But every good turn has a bad one, I've assigned Ensign Torlik as your senior operations officer."

John quickly turned round and looked at Jenkins; Torlik was a well known Denobilan who held a Starfleet record, the longest serving ensign. Nothing on his record said what had happened or why he was so hated by his previous commanders, but he had been an ensign for twenty years, he had to be doing something wrong for that to happen.

"You'll leave at twenty hundred hours Captain." Jenkins ordered, "Good luck Captain." Jenkins suddenly left the bridge leaving John stood at the side of the bridge.

John looked round the bridge at his command; he felt a strange mix of emotions; excitement, fear and nerves. This was his first command and he was being thrust into the abyss of space with a vessel that wasn't completed yet. '_This is not a good idea_,' he thought to himself as he walked into his office, he needed to get a few people to the ship and fast.


	2. Chapter 2

**Stardate 53105.0**

**USS Nightingale, Utopia Plantia, Captain's Office**

John sat on the scratchy metal chair that had been placed in his office, shifting his bum side to side in annoyance at the uncomfortable furniture. Even being the office space for the commander of the vessel, the space in the room was barely adequate. John was by no means big, yet he struggled to get in and out of desk and comfortably sit down. The furniture as well was of the most basic materials and design, more for practical reasons than anything else; there was no room for a flash desk on this ship.

A chirp at the door signalled a guest had arrived and wanted to speak to the captain, John put down the report he was reading and signalled for the guest to walk in. Commander Hawke strode through the door with a swagger that gave John the fondest memories of his executive officer. "Dan," John piped up, "how good to see you again."

"Commander Hawke reporting for duty, sir!" the man replied in a formal reply.

John hated the formal introduction that Dan had given him; he felt a cold shiver down his back at the thought of being called 'sir' all the time. "Dan please," he uttered, "In my ready room, it's John."

"And what do I say on the bridge?" Dan replied, he had come to full stop now, waiting at the front of the desk at attention.

"Captain will do fine." John stood up and shook Dan's hand hard, "Please take a seat," John threw his hand towards one of the two empty, which Dan quickly took. "You got here in good time," John commented, he had only finished meeting with the Admiral two hours before hand and had sent a message to Dan about the deployment moments afterwards.

"New Berlin and Mars Plantia aren't exactly the opposite ends on the galaxy John," Dan pointed out, "I borrowed a runabout."

"The exact orders have come through." John paused as he grabbed another report that was laid out on his small non-descript desk. "Nightingale is to proceed to Starbase one-one-two for collection of Mission Advisor before making towards last known location of the USS Brave," John read out from the padd in his hand, his voice carried an almost computer like sound to it.

"Mission advisor?" Dan queried, he ran a hand through his thick black hair and down the back of his neck.

"Lieutenant Commander Hans," replied John quickly, still looking at the padd, "The most senior Geckonian in Starfleet, the USS Brave went missing after it responded to a distress call in Geckonian space about three light years from their position along the Gorn border." John knew what the implication of the situation was; Starfleet obviously felt that the Geckonians were somehow responsible for the disappearance of the USS Brave, but being so close to Gorn space, John was not so willing to jump to conclusions.

"The Federation heavily trade with Geckonia," Dan replied, "has the Federation Cargo Authority reported any unusual activity?"

John shook his head, "they haven't a scheduled run to Geckonia for the next several weeks," John paused to look at something on the padd, "the last one entered Federation territory two days before the distress signal."

Dan shook his head, "didn't runs use to happen every couple of days?"

"That was before the Dominion War." John had considered joining the Federation's fleet of cargo ships just weeks earlier, before he had gotten news of his command. "Most of the cargo ships were used to ship materials to the front lines, a lot of them didn't make it out of the war," John gave a deep sigh of sympathy, "they are just too stretched at the moment to make all the runs they use to."

John sat back in his chair, his mind went back to the Dominion War, how as an Executive Officer on the Ark Royal he had seen so many young men and women die for the Federation in Starfleet. At least they had a chance of fighting back, the Dominion's targeting of freighters was indiscriminate and cruel, there was no chance that a freighter had against the might of a single Jem'Hadar attack ship, let alone the three to four that were often seen attacking them. John had felt really sorry for the men aboard those craft, but also admired their bravery.

"If they think this could be a combat situation John," Dan paused, "why are they sending us? We're not a combat ship; we have minimal, basic weapons; barely a full crew and we haven't even tested the ship."

John raised his eyebrows, he had never known Dan to be so outspoken. "We have enough to defend ourselves Dan," John replied encouragingly, "besides, it search and rescue, it's what this little craft has been designed for."

"With all due respect Captain," Dan's tone on the Captain was formal, John felt it was a warning with what he was going to say, "A sovereign class vessel is just as capable of taking care of injured crew as we are."

John leant back in his chair, "The sovereign class can't carry four hundred and fifty casualties; it can barely care for fifty."

John picked another padd on the desk. "We've only got a few hours until we are supposed to depart, we've got a lot of work to do before then." John threw a padd at Dan, who almost dropped it before grabbing it confidently, "I would like you to take care of the bridge functions and science and I've got weapons, engineering and medical."

Dan looked at the list; John could hear his thoughts almost, despite not being a telepath. "You think we'll be ship shape?"

"We'll be good to go Dan." John said. Even as he said those words, John felt something strange in his stomach, apprehension, John wanted to believe what he had said, but he truly did not know if his ship would be right.

Dan stayed in his chair motionless, John knew he had probably more to say on the subject, but he didn't want to hear it. "Dan you're dismissed, see to your orders."

Dan got himself up and walked out of the room. John's stomach clenched as his old friend left the room, as if something about their relationship was now about to change irreversibly, something that neither of them could control. John had the feeling that Dan was right about a few things, the Nightingale was no combat vessel and a Sovereign class vessel could effectively take many injured crewmembers to the nearest starbase. The Brave only had a crew compliment of one hundred and fifty people; most ships could convert a cargo bay into a temporary hospital.

John looked at the fleet deployments in the computer, he looked at the list of ships in the area, many of which were top, ship of the lines, the USS Hood, USS Surek and the USS Ambassador were three such ships that could probably do just as good a ship as the Nightingale in the state she was in.

Turning off the map of ship deployments, John took in the reality, it was his mission, his ships job to rescue the one hundred and fifty people on the ship. He had to accept that and do a damn good job about rescuing the people who could be trapped inside Geckonian space.

John had hardly heard of the Geckonians, other than the general knowledge passed out at the Academy, and he had never met one. Starfleet's own database confirmed that twenty four Geckonians served in Starfleet, but no personal information was ever divulged to Starfleet and the Anthropologists at the science department barely touched on the subject. What was known was the Geckonians were highly territorial and the idea of trade with Federation had taken years to negotiate.

The Gorn on the other hand were well known to Starfleet, from the first contact with them in 2267 when a Gorn vessel attacked and destroyed the original Cestus III colony. The matter was down to the diplomats soon after James Kirk had defeated their commander in some sort of hand to hand combat contest. A treaty in 2281 allowed the reformation of the colony. That system and several others were the border between the Gorn and the Federation.

Since the treaty the relationship between the two powers were more or less amicable, but not much better than that. John recalled several incidents in history where Starfleet and the Gorn had come to blows over matters in their early relationship. The more interesting one being about a space dwelling organism called Mimics which had resided in neutral space and were used by the Gorn as entertainment. If it wasn't for the relocation of the organisms to Federation space, aided by the USS Ranger in 2330, the Mimics would now be extinct as their captivity was fatal to them.

However, John could not remember anything in the last fifty years that had stated any bad blood between the Gorn and Starfleet, in contrast there was signs of an improving relationship. The Gorn had helped Starfleet in the Dominion Wars providing a fleet that protected the area from the Dominion advances and even participated in a limited capacity in the Battle of Cardassia. Starfleet and the Gorn had even launched a few joint missions during the war, when a Gorn world was overrun by Jem'Hadar troops.

John thought about the possible scenarios, had the Brave been attacked by the Geckonians, an otherwise peaceful race who was more Xenophobic than aggressive. It seemed unlikely that the Geckonians, who had otherwise been polite neighbours had anything to do with the disappearance, but the distress signal had come from their territory, but it was not know if it was one of their ships that had sent the signal.

Perhaps the Brave had been attacked by the Gorn, an aggressive race that was known in the past to distrust the Federation, but had in recent years learned to get along with them. Intelligence reports from the Gorn homeworld, now secretly hidden under the pile of padds on John's desk, showed no sign that Gorn wanted to attack the Federation. In addition, despite the losses suffered to the Borg and the Dominion, Starfleet was by no means unable to defend itself from the Gorn, who in comparison still had a relatively small fleet.

Then there was one last option that no-one had yet mentioned, perhaps something else, something natural had happened to the USS Brave and her crew, a subspace phenomenon, a natural occurring disaster, which had disabled her. Perhaps it was nothing to do with the Gorn or the Geckonians. Maybe what had happened to the original sender of the distress signal had happened to the Brave.

Whatever the cause, John knew he wasn't going to get the answers sitting at his desk with his ship in spacedock. He stood up, pulling his shirt down and moved out of the room with a steady and speedy motion, he was off to find the V'ras, the Vulcan Chief engineer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Stardate 53105.0**

**USS Nightingale, Utopia Plantia, Lower Engineering**

V'ras stood at the console looking at the readout, his head slightly tilted to the right side and his left eye brow raised ever so slightly. The computer readout was puzzling him, if he were human he would probably say it annoyed him, but that would be an emotional response, and V'ras would not succumb to such basic primal instincts.

"Lieutenant, the readout still says not enough power isn't reaching the reactor," an ensign shouted from another console.

V'ras turned his head and starred a blank look at the ensign, of course he could see what the readout said, he was looking at the same readout, it was obvious; the question was why. V'ras wanted so much, he wanted to serve on a Vulcan only ship, like the T'Kumbra or the Soval, he wanted to stop being assigned to human teams; they were always so chaotic and he wanted to not have to listen to any more obvious points, that humans so often stated.

"Ensign, I want you to replace all the isolinear circuits in junction forty four alpha," V'ras ordered to the young man, there was no need to replace those circuits, they had nothing to do with the reactor, but it was a way in order to get him out of Engineering and away from him. As the ensign left he was glad that at least on this assignment he was the most senior officer in engineering, having been placed in charge of the engineering team building of Nightingale after the completion of the USS St Bernards and USS Hippocrates, which he had been a team member of both.

V'ras knew the ship like it was a member of his family, and he felt the same appreciation for the ship as he did for his parents. It was only logical that such an intimate bond had occurred; as for six months, he had lived and breathed this vessel and nothing else. Now he was going to be the chief engineer on the vessel, which as he had said to Admiral Jenkins was only logical.

As V'ras stared at the computer screen as it gave him readouts of the warp reactor. Something was stopping most of the power from getting to the reactor, something that should be a simple problem, but V'ras, despite his vast knowledge of the ship, had no knowledge of what was causing the slight drop in power. V'ras knew he was against the clock, the ship was due to leave in just a few hours and he could have more work to do than was possible in that time.

"Lieutenant, what is going on with my engine?" asked a male voice from behind V'ras. V'ras turned round to see Captain John Wilcox coming towards him, his strides were well placed, purposeful with each hit on the ground.

"Captain, sir," V'ras replied, "the reactor is not accepting the entire power that we are trying to draw into it." V'ras brought up a schematic of the reactor with lines showing the flow of power and pointed to the two different figures, one that stated the amount that was trying to be pushed into the system and the other what the reactor was taking in.

"What is the cause?" the Captain responded as he leaned over the control panel to look at the brightly coloured diagram, his eyes shifting left to right studying the screen with a passion. V'ras wondered if Captain Wilcox understood what was on the screen or whether he was pretending to be an all knowing Captain.

"I have no idea," V'ras had to admit that, it was not what he wanted to say, but as a Vulcan he could not lie, "I have taken the power intake apart and put it back together."

The Captain seemed to ponder at the situation for a moment; V'ras wanted to tell the Captain that this meeting was wasting his time, which considering the need for speed was illogical to say the least, but that was something fascinating about the way that the Captain reacted to the problem.

"Perhaps you've sprung a leak Lieutenant?"

"A leak sir?" asked V'ras, surprised by the suggestion made by the commanding officer, "what do you mean by a leak?"

The Captain started tapping on the controls and brought up another group of statistics, on the screen showed the power distribution, represented by a red to green scale of how much of the power was present all over the system. "It seems to me, something in the system is draining the power, drawing power from the system when it shouldn't be."

"That would seem to be like a leak and the problem that we have," V'ras suggested, it was another obvious human point, but said in a new way that made it seem different, "but where?"

"Well that is now the question," Captain Wilcox sighed as he looked at the readout, "I was hoping for something more concrete on this readout, but I'm not the expert," he replied as he stood up straight giving V'ras a look that made the Vulcan feel uncomfortable, "you are."

"My position as chief engineer was assured as I have overseen the engineering team on this vessel," V'ras was proud of his position, he had only been in Starfleet for a few years, and at a tender age of twenty six he was already a chief engineer.

"What's the bottom line?"

"The bottom line sir?" another human expression that confused V'ras had popped up from the Captain.

"What does this mean? How fast can we go?" the Captain asked V'ras, his voice now strained.

V'ras considered the question, tilting his head to his right again, "Warp seven," he replied quickly.

John didn't look happy at the answer, V'ras was wondering if his primal instincts to tear up equipment would come out of the calm persona that humans like to portray, yet have yet to manage. "Try to do what you can at this stage," Wilcox replied, "but I want this ship ready to go by the launch time, you'll have to make any further changes at our next stop."

V'ras nodded in agreement, for a human he made sense, "These orders sir," V'ras started to say, "They seem illogical to send a barely functional ship out on this kind of mission, if you don't mind me saying sir?" Although it was not the Vulcan way to question orders, V'ras felt an unnerving urge to point out the illogical orders that they had been given.

The Captain seemed to bite his lip, V'ras had an urge to try to sense the Captain's thought at this moment, it would be fascinating, but that would be an intrusion of privacy and that wasn't the Vulcan way.

"Orders are orders Lieutenant," the Captain responded, "they don't have to be logical, we just have to follow them."

"Aye sir," replied V'ras.

"Lieutenant V'ras where the hell is that damn engineer that is assigned to sickbay?" shouted another voice from behind the Captain. The Captain turned round to see who was shouting. "My apologies Captain, I didn't realise you were here," the voice continued, a slight reddish around the cheeks of the woman dressed in a science uniform, V'ras instantly recognised that she was embarrassed.

"Not a problem Doctor," replied Wilcox, he seemed half amused by her embarrassment.

Lieutenant Commander Rachel Burton was the chief medical officer on the Nightingale, from what V'ras had gathered she was a competent doctor, but was outspoken and demanding. An engineer was supposed to be stationed to work on the sickbay equipment permanently, but in the need for the ship to be ready in time for the departure, V'ras had reassigned the ensign to work on the dilithium matrix.

"I've had to reassign them," V'ras said, "I need every engineer able to work on the engines until we leave space dock."

"I don't care," Burton's voice rose with anger embedded into the words, "I need the imaging chamber up and running, who knows what injuries I could be facing from the Brave."

"The imaging chamber will not help this ship out of space dock Commander," V'ras voice was calm, collective and Vulcan, it seemed only to annoy the doctor more, "It is only logical to work on the systems that we need first before working on other."

The Captain had seemed amused by the small disagreement that had erupted in engineer, "Doctor," the Captain interrupted the conversation before it got out of hand, "It will be several days before we reach the Gorn border, you'll have plenty of time with the engineer in order to get the imaging chamber working," the Captain paused, "until then, I am sure you have other preparations in which you can be getting on with."

Rachel Burton nodded in agreement.

The Captain gave a nod to both the engineer and the doctor and walked out of the room with a commanding yet unsteady stride. V'ras raised an eyebrow for a second, contemplating about what sort of a commander the Captain was going to make, at the moment he didn't seem all too comfortable with the role.

"Is there anything else Doctor?"

"No," the Doctor hastily replied and also walked out of the room.

**Stardate 53105.1 **

**USS Nightingale, Utopia Plantia, Chief Medical Officer's Office**

Rachel stormed into her office, if there were still manually opening doors she would have slammed it shut to show her annoyance at the situation. Instead she had to make do with just throwing herself down in defiance on the chair that sat behind her small inconvenient desk.

She was made to succumb to a Lieutenant; she needed that ensign to repair her equipment; that was his job not some dilitium matrix. She would have to make a point of this to the Captain at some other time.

Nurse Williams approached the office door from sickbay, popping her head round the corner and giving a broad, apprehensive smile, "Not a good time doctor?" she asked.

"What is it Williams?" Rachel found herself saying, she didn't want to deal with anything, she wanted to lock herself in the office and complete the paperwork that she had flung across her desk before they left space dock.

"The last of the medical supplies have arrived sir," Williams announced with a smile on her face, something that Williams was adept at doing, despite what trouble there was, she smiled through it all, especially to patients. Rachel had seen her work during the Breen attack on Earth, and some of those who had died from injuries her care had done so with a smile from a comforting beautiful face.

"Cargo bay three, that's out designated storage compartment." Burton said, a stinging tone to her voice, it wasn't Williams fault that she hadn't got her way, but for some reason Burton found herself taking it out on the poor head nurse.

"Its full sir," Williams replied.

Rachel threw down the padd that she was working on, she had no authorisation to place any medical equipment in any other place, and none of the other cargo bays were secure enough or had the right storage setup. Burton thought about how much medical equipment that they must be carrying for there to be too much for the large cargo bay to be full, it started to boggle her mind.

"Start to take some out of storage then," Rachel replied, "Put some of the most used equipment in the right areas of the medical bays," Rachel looked up at her chief nurse, "anything else?"

The nurse entered the room fully and sat down in front of the desk, still giving her bright, cheerful smile, "Couldn't get the young ensign back?" she asked.

Rachel shook her head, the anger she felt about the situation was rooted in her thoughts at the moment.

"It's okay," Williams replied, "It'll be more than a few days until we need it Doctor," she continued, "And I'm far too busy to keeping an eye on some grease monkey to make sure he calibrating it correctly."

Rachel found a tickle in the back of her throat, it was the beginning of a laugh, she didn't want to laugh, but her head nurse sometimes made some funny comments. "Alright, I'm overreacting," her head nurse also had a unique way of making a point, without actually saying a word, "I just want my medical deck working before we leave."

"Well that was never going to happen now we're leaving early was it Doctor!"

Rachel realised that now, she just didn't want to admit it; perhaps she wouldn't speak to the Captain later. Rachel noticed that Williams was still wearing her warrant officers rank, "Where's your ensigns badge?" she asked, changing the conversation away from her and to her nurse.

"My commission isn't official until next week," Williams replied, her voice for once showing disappointment.

Rachel nodded, "I'll speak to Medical, we'll get it moved forward."

Williams gave another trademark smile and nodded to Rachel who at last smiled back. Her job seemed done; Williams left Rachel alone, Rachel was glad of that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Stardate 53106.08**

**USS Nightingale, Utopia Plantia, Captain's Ready Room**

Captain Wilcox was sat at his desk looking over the crew manifest he had in front of him. The list of everyone on his ship was present plus the mission advisor that would be joining them at Starbase one-one-two. John checked the list against the crew he had originally requested for, there were several names on the list that weren't present, Jones his Operations Officer and Wongla his helmsman were his two missing officers and twenty one enlisted personnel were either missing or replaced.

What concerned John more than anything was the lack of security that he had on ship, he had a total of six personnel in order to maintain security, and they were all tactical officers not security officers. Although the departments were often interchangeable, there were still some delicate differences between the two, and not having enough of either seriously affected the combat efficiency and the security aboard ship. The persons he had were just enough to run the ship's weapons during combat, if they got boarded, there was no way effective way he could counter it.

John had contacted Admiral Jenkins, but he had been told that he had all the personnel that he could have and he would have to either deal with it, or find another way around the problem. John knew that the fleet was suffering from major man shortages but felt that his ship was given a low priority when it came to giving out personnel. His ship was designed to have a crew of sixty five; he had fifty five crewmembers on board, barely enough to fly the vessel let alone carry out its mission.

John also had serious doubts about some of the crew that were assigned to him. Lieutenant Junior Grade Chloe Visitor for instance had only graduated four months ago - how on earth she had obtained her rank so quickly was a stroke of luck. She had been piloting a shuttle in the Delphnic system with two admirals aboard, transporting them from a starbase to a nearby patrol vessel, when a Dominion task force attacked the system. She had piloted the shuttle to safety and disabled a Jem'Hadar attack ship in the process, the two admirals were so impressed by her skills they promoted her on the spot. It sounded as if she was a great pilot and surely someone who was good to have on the ship, but was she experienced enough to head up the navigational department, she would have responsibility for two other crewmembers, John doubted that her abilities was good enough to compensate for her lack of experience.

Then there was Ensign Torlik; he was something of a mystery. According to his record on his first assignment he was responsible for the death of sixty crewmembers when he fired the weapons to the ship too close to a Klingon Bird of Prey. The Klingon vessel exploded far too close and his vessel was severely damaged with hull breaches on nearly every single deck. However he had never had a bad word said against him on any of the seventeen posts he has had since that post. But it was hard to have a bad word said against you when your only responsibility is cleaning the waste disposal units. It seemed that his former commanders were just keen to get rid of him.

At the end of the day, John knew that it didn't matter; he was stuck with both of them for now in the roles that they had been assigned and they were due to call on him at any minute. John paused as he picked up the next padd in front of him, the engineering report, he was about half way down, probably about to get to the end of the techno babble that V'ras had written to find out the actual speed he thinks that ship could maintain when the chime of his office door went. John ushered the callers in.

John instantly recognised the young brunette as Chloe Visitor and behind her was a middle aged Denobulan, John presumed this was the infamous Torlik. John studied both of them carefully as they filed in front of his inadequate sized desk, both stiff at attention.

"Stand easy both of you," ordered John, both of the figure before him moved swiftly into a more relaxed posture, "welcome aboard the USS Nightingale." John smiled at both of them, hoping to create some sort of friendly atmosphere, some kind of rapport with these two officers. Deep down it felt fake.

"Thank you sir," the young helmsman replied in a soft excited girly voice. He gleaming smile portrayed as much as her voice; she was very happy to be on this assignment.

"Sir," the Denobulan replied, his tone was much more neutral, as if he was bored, as if he didn't want to be there, which would have made two in the room.

"It's good to have you both onboard," that was another lie, like his friendly smile, "you both have something to offer the ship, I expect a lot from my crew, don't let me down." John changed his gaze, holding each one of them by the eyes in a serious embrace. Neither of the junior officers seemed too fazed by the look, Torlik kept his bored expression and Visitor's earlier excitement had not completely disappeared.

"First assignment on a Starship isn't it Lieutenant Visitor?" John asked standing up to get to the same height as his two officers.

"Yes sir," replied visitor snappily, "I was assigned to Starbase four-one-two for three months before being assigned to Earth," she explained, neither post, to John's recollection, was anything special, especially to a young officer looking for adventure to the expanse of space, this assignment was probably the dream she wanted, flying a vessel, not sat behind a shuttle doing regular passenger runs.

John smiled at her, "have you met the rest of your department yet?"

"No sir."

"You're responsible for them on this ship Lieutenant, it's your department and I want navigation to run smoothly," John reminded the young girl. John switched his focus to Torlik, "What assignment number is this for you Ensign?"

"Nineteenth," the man replied abruptly.

"A lot of experience there to give the ship, there are a lot of people who could benefit from that," John said with the fake encouraging smile that he had held before.

"Can we just get on with it sir," replied the sour faced Denobulan, "just assign me to waste extraction and get it over with."

John bit his lip; he hadn't expected that kind of response from the ensign, it almost threw him back. It had certainly thrown Lieutenant Visitor who had turned her head and changed her expression from excitement to pure shock. "Lieutenant could you take your station please," John asked, "we'll be departing soon, I just want a word with Ensign Torlik before we leave."

Chloe nodded her head, stood to attention and walked out of the room. John let his office door slid shut before he returned to look at Torlik, which seemed like an eternity before they had finally closed.

"What on Earth was that?" John shouted.

"We both know what I'm doing here, what's on my record and what assignments I've been given for the past twenty years," Torlik sternly replied, his voice not raised, tempered by age and experience, yet speaking volumes of what he thought.

"For your information ensign," John began to say, his voice lowered, but anger penetrating each and every word, "I have no choice, I have to assign you to the bridge, as chief of operations. My only other operations officer is fresh out of the academy. He doesn't have the experience or respect to command the non-commissioned officers."

"In case you've forgot sir, I don't have anyone's respect."

John was about to speak again, but paused, his mouth half open. Quickly shutting it he sat down in his chair, dropping his rear on the seat like a lead weight in water, "I take it you don't like Starfleet very much." John made more of a comment than a question, it was an obvious statement, Torlik had obvious resentment against his assignments and Starfleet.

"It's hard not to resent an organisation that has persecuted you for twenty years," Torlik gave a look at John that slightly scared him deep inside, Denobulans weren't known for being a particularly aggressive species but Torlik seemed as aggressive as any Klingon.

"If you hate Starfleet so much, why don't you leave?" John asked, more curious than anything else, "I can't have an operations officer who doesn't want to be on that bridge."

Torlik's eyes filled with years of depression, something that John felt saddened to see, "Starfleet is all I have sir," he replied, "with my record no other ship would have me on their crew scrubbing plasma injectors or cleaning waste disposal units." Torlik held his head low, looking at the floor, a tear formed in his eye and dropped down to where he was looking at, "My wives won't have anything to do with me and my children have all disowned me," he announced, sadness filled his voice, "I haven't spoken to any of them for sixteen years now, you see Captain, I have nothing but the fleet."

John looked at his desk, his heart felt heavy and he started to sympathise with Torlik. Everything that he had gone through, everything he had lost and yet the very thing that had caused it, his career, was the only thing left to him and he clung to that like a bat to its' perch. "There isn't much detail in the records about the..." John paused for a second, he didn't know what the right word to say was, "incident," he finally came up with, "is everything in the report? Is it all accurate?"

Torlik's head rose slightly, his eyes still filled with tears, and yet anger still present within them, "To be honest sir," Torlik stopped in the middle of his sentence, his voice stuttered, then he composed himself, "it doesn't matter sir, it doesn't change anything," Torlik's voice started filling with the same anger that had saturated his voice earlier, "you said so yourself sir, if you had a choice, I wouldn't be on your bridge." Torlik snapped at John.

John stood up in anger, "With that kind of attitude ensign, my opinion of you won't matter," John walked over to his door and held a finger over the open button. "While on my ship you will serve as chief of operations and I will expect you to show some professionalism in that post" John paused, his finger poised to press the button, "keep that attitude in check mister, or you will find yourself off this vessel."

"Yes sir," replied the now completely composed and emotionless Torlik.

John pressed the door button and walked out onto the bridge, not giving the ensign another look. Torlik followed John out quickly taking his station at the operations enclave that was behind and to the left of the Captain's chair. John strode to his chair and sat down, on his right Dan Hawke sat comfortably in the executive's chair. He had a look of concern on his face, "everything okay Captain?" he asked.

John nodded, his face telling a different story than what he was trying to portray, "let's get going shall we?" he asked looking at Dan. Dan nodded and stood up, taking up the centre of the bridge.

"All hands, prepare for departure, clear all moorings and spin up the engines," Dan started to give the general list of items that were required to leave the dry dock.

John pressed a button on his command console next to his chair to open up a communications channel, "Space Control, this is the USS Nightingale, request permission to leave dry dock and proceed with mission."

_"USS Nightingale this is Space Control, permission granted. Please remain at one quarter impulse until you have cleared the defence perimeter," _the controller, a female voice replied to John's communication. John looked at Dan and nodded at him.

Dan turned round to the chief of operations; Torlik was stood at his station pressing random buttons on his console, looking like he was monitoring something, "are we free of the dry dock ensign?"

Torlik looked at another console, pressing a few more buttons, John felt a little uneasy in his stomach, as he felt the Denobulan was taking too long in the process, "the umbilical cord has been cut now sir," Torlik eventually responded, "we are completely free of dry dock."

Dan licked his lips, an excited movement John noticed Dan did from time to time, and walked up to Lieutenant Chloe Visitor at the helm station, who was smiling from ear to ear, "take us out Lieutenant, thrusters only until we have cleared the dry dock then one quarter impulse to the perimeter," he ordered.

John's stomach tightened as he felt the ship jolt forward, with the motion of the first firing of the thrusters, John decided to drag his thoughts to other matters. He pressed another button on his command console, "Captain Wilcox to Lieutenant V'ras."

"_V'ras here_," came the Lieutenant's Vulcan voice, so perfectly pitched so perfectly maintained and emotionless, "yo_u can go to warp nine when you are ready sir."_

John allowed himself a smile, "Commander," Dan turned round to face John, "when we have cleared the perimeter, maximum warp to Starbase one-one-two."

Dan nodded and turned back round to look at the view screen that showed the exterior view of the ship moving forward. "How long until we have cleared the perimeter Lieutenant?" he asked Chloe who was busy piloting the vessel, with not a look of concentration on her face, but pure enjoyment.

"Two minutes sir," she replied, "and at warp nine it will take us three days to reach one-one-two."

John was impressed by the young officer's thought of calculating the speed, and her ability to do so while trying to control the ship during a difficult manoeuvre.

Shrak, at the tactical station, seemed almost bored. John looked at the other crew on the bridge who all seemed to be thrilled to be on the move and enjoying the launch. John wished he could share the same feelings, but something deep down didn't make him feel excited about the launch, not with all the problems that were going on with the ship.

John was disturbed in his thoughts of the mission and the launch by Chloe, "We've cleared the defence perimeter," she announced, "course plotted for Starbase one-one-two, warp nine."

John looked at the screen, "engage," he ordered, standing up from his seat.

Chloe pressed a few buttons and the ship slid effortlessly into warp nine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Stardate 33537.5 (Twenty Years Ago) **

**Bridge, USS Victory**

Torlik brushed the dust off his uniform as he stood up from the floor of the wrecked bridge, beams from the ceiling had come down and console screens were burnt out, the bridge had never looked so bad. He looked at the damage control panel on his command readouts, "shield's are off line and I don't think our hull integrity is going to hold for long," he said looking at the Captain who was sat in his chair.

"What about the Klingon ship?" the Captain asked, as if wasn't bothered by the damage report.

A dark man across the room replied hastily as he swept an arm across his head, wiping sweat from his brow, "The Klingons aren't in a good state," he paused for a moment looking at the readouts, "shields are down, weapons are limited, I would say we've knocked out one of the disruptors and their torpedo launchers."

Torlik noticed the Captain stand up and smile, just as a spark flew across the bridge, a reaction from a recent hit to the hull. "We're still in the fight then," he shouted across the bridge in a jubilant fashion, "Lieutenant Murray," the tactical officer rose his head from the panel of controls he had, Torlik couldn't help himself watching the Captain, "disable that klingon vessel," the order was short and blunt but it was simple. So far the Captain had been concentrating his fire on a defensive strategy, but now he was willing to be more aggressive.

Torlik watched the tactical officer fire the ship's only working phaser at the Klingons' weapons and engines. Monitored the power regulation coming from his own ship, he noticed that there was a slight rise in the stress that was being exerted on the ship's already taxed power systems, Torlik was worried about it. "We can't keep up the power usage sir," he shouted, "the power system is about the fail on us." If the power system failed, they would sitting ducks and the freighter they were protecting too.

"Tactical?" the captain shouted across the room.

"Just about finished," the Lieutenant replied, a manic smile coming across his face. "They've been disabled," he announced calmly. The bridge almost erupted in a cheer of joy, the Victory had been in a lengthy battle with a vessel that was more than a match for her, yet she seemed to have come out better. With the firing stopped the power systems returned to normal, Torlik was relieved.

"Ensign Torlik," the Captain turned to face Torlik, "begin rescue operations of the freighter, we'll offer the Klingons a ride after we've rescued the crew of the freighter," he ordered. Torlik was about to press his comm badge to call on a number of people to prepare for rescue operations when an alarm started beeping on his console, the Captain rushed over to Torlik as he read the sensor report.

"The Klingon ship's warp reactor is going critical," Torlik announced. His Starfleet training had told him not to be scared, to approach the situation with calmness and integrity, but he felt frightened deep down, "we're too close to the ship," he continued, some of the fear showing in his voice.

The Captain walked up to a walk bar that separated the bridge in two, "helm take us away from the Klingon ship, one half impulse," he ordered, calm still in voice, something that Torlik admired.

"The freighter is too close," Torlik said to the Captain, who turned his attention back to Torlik, "they don't have any engines left." Torlik looked at the stricken vessel and gave a thought for the one thousand people on board the freighter heading towards a new colony.

"Can we use the tractor beam to pull them away?" the Captain asked his tactical officer moving across the bridge, almost strutting like a peacock.

"Tractor beam is off line," Lieutenant Murray replied, Torlik noticed that his nervous habit of biting his lip and come up, he was obviously just as worried.

The Captain walked over to his chair and sat down, "we can't do anything about it then," he said calmly. There was a silence across the bridge as everyone made sense of the situation; Torlik himself had to make sense of the problem at hand.

"Captain," Torlik broke the silence first, "we could position ourselves between the Klingon vessel and the freighter." Torlik knew what he was suggesting was dangerous, but as Starfleet officers it was their duty to put their lives on the line for the freighters crew and passengers.

"Our shields emitters are burnt out ensign," the Captain replied, "we would be destroyed."

Torlik shook his head, "Not if we re-route power to the structural integrity field, we should be able to survive." Torlik was ready to press the buttons on the console in front of his to re-route the power to the necessary systems. Torlik knew it was a risk, but it was one he wanted to do.

"We would take excessive damage," the Captain stated, "we won't do it." The Captain stayed in his chair, looking at the view screen, away from Torlik. Torlik looked around the room, a few of the officers were looking at him, but none of them seemed too bothered about the Captain's orders, nor did they seem sympathetic to Torlik's idea.

Torlik thought for a second, he had to do something. He quickly thought of a plan.

"Captain," the helmsman said, "I've lost control of the helm," he announced slamming his hand against the panel in a vain attempt to make it work.

"How long until the Klingon ship explodes?" the Captain asked his tactical officer moving out of his chair to stand just in front of it.

"Forty five seconds."

"Will we be far enough away by then?" the Captain's voice suddenly dropped from his calm, pompous manner that he had before, to one of fear.

The helmsman looked at his readings, "we're moving in the opposite direction," the man announced astonished, "someone must have taken control of the helm remotely." The helmsman quickly attempted to regain control of the helm.

"Torlik," the Captain shouted, "move us away from the Klingon vessel," he ordered, his voice showing the stress through anger.

Torlik raised his head and shook his head, "we have a duty to those people," he replied, his voice now calm, fear had completely left him, he had a purpose and if he was to die, then it was a good way to die.

"Torlik," the Captain continued, "I am ordering you to stand down. Give up helm control"

"Thirty seconds," Murray quickly shouted from across the room, his voice now seemed fearful, Torlik noticed that most of the bridge crew had stopped their work and was now watching the drama unfold in front of them.

"We're directly between the Klingon vessel and the freighter," the helmsman announced aloud. Heads turned from side to side looking for one of the two, the Captain or Torlik to relent.

"Torlik, get us away from that ship, that's an order," the Captain seemed so small now to Torlik, he had respected his commander just a few moments ago, however now he saw the true colours of the Captain, he was willing to go only so far for those he swore to protect. "Murray take him out," the Captain shouted across the room to the tactical officer.

Murray grabbed his phaser that he stored under his console and aimed it at the young ensign across the bridge from him. Torlik saw the Lieutenant fire just in time and ducked as a burst of red energy passed above his head. Torlik sighed in relief for a second, Murray had missed; he grabbed his phaser and fired back at the tactical officer. The red burst of energy hit Murray on his right shoulder and he flew backwards hitting his head on a corner of the bridge, his limp body then slumped against the wall, almost lifeless.

The Captain stared at Torlik. Torlik returned the look, both had disgust in their eyes for the other, neither wanted to budge on what they in turn had done or wanted. The Captain turned to watch the view screen as the Klingon bird of prey started to explode from the inside, the debris and the explosion racing towards the USS Victory. Torlik barely reacted as the ship stations around his started to explode and flames raged around him.

Torlik noticed on his scanner that the freighter was completely safe because of the protection that the Victory was giving her. Torlik could see the damage being done to the ship that he had only just joined the ship. He could see the hull breaches erupting across the ship, he knew people who worked in those sections and he hoped that they would be alright, but at the end of the day he knew that he had done the right thing, the crew of the victory was only two hundred strong, yet the freighter was one thousand, he had to act to save them. Torlik felt a brief moment of personal pride but also hatred for the Captain who was willing to let all those people die for his own safety.

Torlik felt a hard object hit him on the back of his head. Then it went completely dark.

**Stardate 53110.1 (Present Day), **

**Torlik's Quarters, USS Nightingale**

Torlik opened his eyes quickly and quickly refocused his attention to the here and present; it had been a hallucination of a memory. Torlik's breath was out of pace and uncontrolled. He had these 'dreams' nearly every day when he rested, going into a meditative state and when he had his yearly hibernation. Torlik could feel his heart beating very fast for him, something that he would have to try to control.

He paused for a moment, his eyes closed attempting to feel his heart and stroke it calm mentally. Feeling his body return to normal, he opened his eyes to look around at his surroundings. He was in his shared quarters with Ensign Paul Williams, the ship's Chief Science Officer. Torlik thought it was a joke assignment, even more than his own, as Ensign Williams only had two other crewmembers in his department and one small science lab.

Paul was due back at any moment, his duty shift would be over and he would want to _'hit the sack' _as he would put it.

Torlik raised himself off his bunk and went to the cupboard that contained several personal items, Torlik pulled out a small brightly coloured blanket, holding it tightly he wanted to burst into tears. The pain of the blanket, his first child's night time comfort reminded him of his loss over the years from the incident that plague his career and his memory.

Right on cue Paul entered the room, looking tired after a night on the bridge, "Torlik," he said welcoming, "you ready for breakfast?" he asked cheerfully, "I'm going for a full English today I think." Paul had always seemed like a happy person, he never worried about what people thought of him, or what people thought of others, he seemed to give everyone a chance, which was a welcome break for Torlik.

Torlik shook his head, placing the blanket back in his storage locker, "don't you want to get some sleep?" he asked shutting the door and grabbing a few padds stored on the shared desk.

Paul smiled, "I can get some sleep later," he replied cheerfully, "you look like you need to get something off your chest and I like to listen."

Torlik pondered for a moment, for the past two days, Paul had done nothing but talk; in fact he had heard several crewmembers talking about the annoying amount of talking that Paul did. When Torlik got back from his shift yesterday, all Paul did was talk about the latest holo novel that he was reading, something that Torlik had no interest in, he hated murder mysteries. Torlik doubted that Paul knew how to listen or that either of his ears worked at all.

"I don't think that you would want to hear my problems," Torlik said, his sad voice echoing in the small cramp room.

"Come on," Paul replied, "you listen to me all the time," that much was true Torlik thought as Paul paused, "it would be nice to hear you say something for a time." Torlik had talked plenty to Ensign Williams; he had spoken to Paul for hours on the new transporter systems that were installed on the USS Nightingale on their first meeting and yesterday morning he spoke for half an hour on the problems he faced with the power regulatory system that didn't seem quite as good as it should be.

"I believe that my personal life would bore you," Torlik said walking out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Stardate 53112.1**

**USS Nightingale, Sickbay**

Rachel monitored the readouts as they came through to the monitoring station in front of her. Her mind was clear of the disagreement she had with Lieutenant V'ras a couple of days ago. V'ras had recently released the Biomedical Systems Specialist from the engineering section to her infirmary where his normal duty would be. The young ensign had just spent the last sixteen hours trying to get the Imaging Chamber up and running, yet there were still some problems.

"The resolution still needs to be adjusted," Rachel said as she tapped on the console, "I'm getting some interference."

Ensign Amanda Hodge pulled herself out of the small chamber that was tucked up in the wall. The latest Starfleet technology, the chamber was able to diagnose and treat a number of injuries and diseases. Rachel thought that the imaging technology was a great piece of ingenuity from Starfleet Corps of Engineers and Medical that during the Dominion War saved countless lives. However many other doctors thought the latest technology made them more redundant. Of course the technology was still limited; it could not heal phaser or disruptor fire injuries and internal injuries. Its main use is against burns and other skin disorders.

Amanda looked at the doctor and sighed, something that greatly irritated Rachel. "I can't bring the resolution any finer," she said, "not without burning the circuitry systems on the whole deck, it would bring the whole sickbay into problems," she explained, wiping some dust off her delicate cheek.

Rachel hit the console in front of her out of pure frustration, he hated being told what she could or couldn't do.

"Well hitting the console isn't going to achieve anything but giving me more work."

"I don't like being powerless," Rachel explained snappily.

"Nor do I sir," Amanda moved a hand onto Rachel's shoulder, "but this machine works fine at the moment, it just isn't perfect."

"Do you know what is wrong with it?" Rachel asked as she pulled her had away from the console and her body from Amanda. Her hand ached from hitting the console so hard, but she didn't want to openly admit it.

"We would probably need a new sensor array within the device," Amanda's first finger touched just above her upper lip as she pondered the possibilities, "the thing is with this machine, it's the first time I've seen one, let alone built or repaired one. I had to look at the instructions."

"I don't suppose that helped," Rachel replied mockingly.

"Sir, with all due respect," Amanda stated, "I dare not comment on your medical skills, please don't comment on my engineering skills."

Rachel swung her head from side to side in annoyance, the ensign was right; she should not have questioned his abilities. "I'm sorry," she said, pursing her lips together.

Amanda was about to say something when Commander Hawke walked through into the infirmary, his speed showing true purpose in his strides across the deck plating. "Commander Burton," his booming voice started, "I need to have a word with you in private."

Amanda was the only other person in the room and so excused herself, making a brief acknowledgement to the executive officer.

"What on earth is this Rachel?" Dan said holding up a padd in the air.

"I believe that is my request for a transfer sir," Rachel responded walking over to a bio bed switching it off, "I don't think that I can complete my duties."

"Why?"

Rachel looked up from the bio bed and at the Commander that stood in front of her, his posture a strange mixture of sadness and anger. "I can't hide my feelings for you Commander."

"Don't call me that," Dan said moving closer to her.

"That is what I am supposed to call you sir, you are my superior officer," she replied quietly, moving further away from his unwanted advances.

"I've always been a superior officer Rachel," he explained, "what has changed?"

Rachel almost seemed to break down, she shifted from foot to foot not knowing which way to walk or what to do, her mind confused, she didn't want to look at Dan. "Everything has changed," she replied, sadness in her voice, "I can't cope with the life I would have to live if we were still together, it isn't right, not when we face danger," she paused for a second, "what if something happened to either of us, would you copy with me hurt?"

Dan paused for a moment; he had not thought of that question himself and therefore could not answer straight away, "I would be upset," he eventually replied, his own sense of sadness embedded deep in the tone of his voice, "but I am just as upset as not having you."

Rachel felt the tears surge behind her eyes and tried hard to fight them off, at least for a little while longer.

"I don't think it is a good idea for us to be together any more Dan," she said, slipping up on the noun used for her former lover, hoping desperately that he wouldn't realise, "you'll have to cope with that sir."

Dan took at step closer to her, "I need you!" he whispered to her.

Rachel didn't want to hear that, she wanted to get rid of him and quickly.

Nurse Williams walked into the room behind Dan, Rachel thought it was excellent timing and placing her hands in a supportive manner behind her on one of the bio beds, she smiled at Dan, "I'm sorry Commander, at the moment I am very busy, but I would be happy to deal with my request at another time," she stated looking at him.

Dan nodded and walked out of the room, almost brushing past Nurse Williams on the way out.

"What was all that about?" Williams asked, "was he after something in particular?"

Rachel watched the door, hoping he wouldn't return quickly to finish off the conversation, "he wanted to discuss my transfer request," she replied, emptiness in her voice.

"You want to leave doctor?" Nurse Williams sounded shock, "may I ask why?"

Rachel looked at the nurse, giving her a cold, sharp, distasteful look before storming out of the infirmary into her office, where she sat down with the door locked behind her, crying.

**Stardate 53112.1 **

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

Dan stamped out of the turbolift as it reached the bridge, his head was full of angry, nasty words, that if anyone heard them they would surely be shocked. He didn't want to speak to anyone, but to get to his office or quarters he had to go through the bridge, something he felt was a minor flaw design in this particular class of vessel.

Shrak sat in the Captain's chair briefly stood up at the arrival of the Executive Officer, "would you like to relieve me sir?" she asked confidently.

Dan shook his head, "no Lieutenant, you continue with your shift," he said, "any idea when we will arrive at the Starbase?"

Shrak looked towards the helmsman who in turn looked at the computer readout in front of him, "six hours sir," the ensign announced.

Dan nodded, he had six hours to respond to Rachel's completely, pathetic request to transfer off the ship. She was needed on the ship, and she didn't have a clue on how important she was to the ship, the mission or even to him. It may have been a selfish thought, but he wanted her on the ship for him and no other reason was more important than that to him.

"Sir," Shrak interrupted his train of thought, "I was wondering if you had spoken to the Captain about the security team issues?"

Dan nodded, he had spoken to John about the problems, but as John had put it, he was unable to magically create the necessary crew. They would have to do without until they were able to get some. "I did Lieutenant," Dan replied, "you'll have to do with what you have," he continued, "we are pretty shorthanded as it is, just use your tactical officers while we aren't firing the weapons."

Shrak nodded, Dan wondered if the Andorian was being polite and didn't want to take the matter on any further or whether she was secretly plotting his downfall. Shrak returned to the captain's chair and took up a position sat in it. She looked uncomfortable, but the Andorian body had always found problems with sitting down, especially in human designed chairs.

Dan looked around the room to see that no one else was paying attention to him and he left the bridge to sit in his quarters, alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Stargate 53113.1**

_**Captain's Log**__: Captain John Wilcox, commanding officer of the USS Nightingale. The USS Nightingale has made it safely to Starbase one-one-two in less than time than I thought. I am extremely proud of my engineering team in what they were able to achieve in so little time. I am eager to get on with our mission and I have therefore given only four hours for us at the Starbase. I know some of my crew are not so happy about this, but they will have to put up with it, the USS Brave has been missing now for such a long time I am beginning to worry it is too late for them._

I have yet to meet my mission advisor, I have been advised he has moved into guest quarters and it is taking a while to settle him in. I have requested a meeting with the Station commander, a Captain Howard, in order to discuss some of my concerns. I am hoping he will lend me some crewmembers in addition to my mission advisor. Top of my list is some security personnel. I don't fancy taking this ship into a potentially hostile area without some security officers. Perhaps I will be lucky.

The commander should also be providing me with the latest intelligence reports and sensor sweeps of the borders with the Gorn and Geckonians. From what I understand in brief the USS Hood has taken the three days to scan the entire area, trying to cut out some time that we need to find the Brave. At least the USS Hood will be available as backup should the worst happen.

The Brave has been missing now for nine days, it seems almost impossible that the ship wouldn't have been able to get some kind of message out to the fleet. I'm almost fearful that Command is sending us out on a fool's errant, there will be nothing left of the Brave, her crew or any information what has happened to her. To the crew I try to appear optimistic about the situation, knowing full well that deep down I am just as apprehensive as any of them are at this moment.

**Stardate: 53113.1 Commander's Office, Starbase 112**

John walked into Captain Howard's quarters with a brisk pace, he had little time to worry about edging about. The slightly large man gave a quick look up from his padd he was reading and nodded to John before returning to his padd. John sat himself down in front of the Station Commander's desk and tapped his own padd in his left hand. He looked around the spacious office; he could see models of ships, presumably something that was close to Captain Howard's heart.

"Sorry Captain," he eventually said in an apologetic manner, "I just wanted to finish this intelligence report before speaking to you."

"Not a problem Captain," John replied, politeness in his voice, despite it was the last thing he wanted to be. "Is it anything interesting?"

"Analysis of the latest Gorn fleet movements," the Captain replied, his voice quiet as if it was in the distant, probably along the Gorn border where a lot of troubles seemed to be starting nowadays.

"A lot of movement?"

Howard nodded his head, "it seems that there was a huge build up about three weeks ago and now all the ships have shifted positions, but intelligence is not sure where or who their target is."

"If there is even a target," John added, his voice contemplative, surely the Gorn were not going to start a war so soon after a galactic war that cost the lives of billions, some of which were Gorn.

"Well the Gorn haven't attacked the Federation directly since for fifty six years, it would seem highly unlikely that they would choose now as a time to strike," Howard continued, "how much do you know about the Gorn - Geckonian war?"

"Nothing," replied John, he had heard the name, probably the other day in one of those dozen or so padds that laid across his small desk, but he had never been to this area of space before and so did not know the local problems.

The Captain sat back in his chair and clasped his hands tightly together, "Lieutenant Commander Hans, who I'm loaning you as a mission advisor, he was a Geckonian Infantry officer in the Geckonian - Gorn war twenty years ago," Howard looked out of the window, biting his lip, "I've tried to get him to talk about it, but he won't, I think it was a very brutal, personal war for him."

"Aren't all wars brutal?" John asked, he did not know a war in history that couldn't be described as being brutal.

"This one more so than most," Howard continued, "Eight hundred million people died in the two year war between two races that hold a collective population of sixty trillion, not even our losses in the recent war were that high."

John remembered the Dominion casualty statistics, billions died, a larger number, but the percentage of those killed in relation to population was relatively small compared to that figure, "do we know anything about the war?" John asked.

"The Gorn tried to conquer the Geckonian nation, after the initial success; the Geckonians were able to dig in, caused massive damage to the Gorn fleet, before they had to call a ceasefire and return to their own space," Howard paused, "but as to specific facts I can't offer you anything."

John shook his head, "you can offer me something, even if it isn't information at this moment."

Howard tipped forward, his eye brows raised in curiosity, "what can I do for you?"

"Starfleet sent me out with some crew missing," John stated his voice sad, "I don't have any security personnel."

Howard stood up and walked over to his window, John gave a quick glance and saw his vessel sitting at its port bay, "it's a small ship," Howard remarked, "much smaller than I imagined."

"You know the old saying, all good things come in small packages," John said smiling. It was a nervous smile, a wary smile, just about any smile than a happy one.

Howard turned and face John, his face sour, John was trying to work out whether this was a serious face or an annoyed one. "How many security officers are you suppose to have?" Howard asked, his voice now complete void of cheeriness that he once had.

"Fourteen crewmen and two officers, I have two officers, but both also work tactical," John replied.

"I don't have that many to spare you," Howard replied, "I can spare you a security detail, six men."

John's heart sank, six men was not enough, that would mean only two men were on duty at any one time, barely enough to run the security office, let alone the brig if necessary or respond to security alerts across the ship, he needed the fourteen men, he needed those other eight.

"I appreciate your position Captain," John replied, "but there must be something you can do in order to allow me to get more personnel?"

Howard licked his lips, "I have very few personnel myself," he replied, his voice now sympathetic.

"I understand that Captain," replied John, "but you aren't the one who could be going into a hostile situation with no security personnel."

Howard sat back down in his chair and looked at John, John returned the same cold stare back at his counterpart, one of them would have to budge, and John wasn't going to be the one to do so.

"I can't give you any more security personnel," Howard replied, "but there are currently ninety six marines on station with nothing to do," he paused tapping a communication button on his table, "let's see if we can get eight of those for you."

"_Yes Captain."_ A female voice said over the communication relays.

"Can you get Major Dodd up here Lieutenant," Howard replied smiling at John, "I need him urgently."

_"Right away Captain,"_ the response was quick and sharp, something that John recognised as respect and devotion to their captain, something he had not yet earned on his ship.

"Think eight marines as well as my six men would be good enough?" Howard asked.

John nodded, they weren't exactly right, but given the situation they would do just fine.

Moments later a man walked into the office wearing the standard Starfleet uniform with a green undershirt, John instantly recognised the man as being a member of the Marine corps for Starfleet. "You asked to see me sir," the man said sharply to Captain Howard.

"Yes Major Dodd," replied Howard looking at the man, John staid in his chair looking at the marine stood all perfectly at attention just behind his attention, "this is Captain John Wilcox of the USS Nightingale," Howard introduced John, John nodded his head in response to the same welcoming gestured given by the marine, "he is in need of some men, could you lend him a squad of eight men?"

"What would their duties be sir?" asked the Major.

"I don't have a security detail," John said calmly, "I need them to fill in those roles, I could be going into a hostile situation and I need people who are capable to act as my security detachment."

The Major looked at John, something that sent a shiver down his back, "the marines will that job better than you could expect," he said with that same smile, "Section three, platoon A would be the best, Corporal Xon is an excellent squad leader and has worked on a vessel before," he said, "when will you be leaving dock sir?"

"Within a couple of hours," John replied quickly.

"I will have them aboard your ship within thirty minutes," Major Dodd replied, "if I may be excused sirs?"

Howard nodded and the marine left the room quickly, with a spring in his step, John wondered whether he was being given the best unit or one that annoyed the Major. He seemed happy to lose eight men quickly, "are they as good as he says they are?" asked John.

Howard nodded, "the best," he paused for a second getting up to go to the replicator that sat on the far side of the room to the window, "Major Dodd will be jealous that they are going and not him, but I need him here."

"That's understandable," John said, "if you don't mind Captain I would like the scan data the USS Hood took sent directly to my ship."

Howard nodded in response, "consider it done Captain." Howard looked at John and moved away from the replicator with a hot drink in his hand, "Good hunting Captain, try to bring back the Brave and her crew."

"Do you think there is a chance she is still out there?" John asked, his earlier reservations about the mission seeping through the cracks of his composure. He was sure Starfleet was too delayed in launching a search and rescue mission, surely now it was too late, there would be nothing left to find.

"Oh I bet she is still out there Captain," Howard replied smiling, "her skipper won't let that ship down, he's too fond of that ship."

John knew that some captain's could get fond of their vessels, but he had not thought that that fondness was in anyway a contributor to its survival or the survival of the crew for that matter. "I'll do my best," John said, "I do hope we find her safe and well."

Howard nodded and opened the door, "if you'll excuse me Captain, I need to arrange some transfer paperwork for six of my people." John nodded in response. "They will be aboard your ship with Lieutenant Commander Hans in one hour," he announced confidently, John nodded again and walked out of the room, feeling triumphant; he had got everything that he went into meeting to get and hadn't too badly upset anyone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Stardate 53113.7. **

**USS Nightingale, Captain's Office**

John sat in his office, his now clear of all the intelligence reports that had once lay across his desk in a jumbled heap. He had not tidied them away as such, but had more of shoved them in a place where no one, not even he, could see them. John's basic chair still felt uncomfortable, as if something in it was sticking him in the back, trying to force him to stand. He had spoken to V'ras about it, but the Vulcan engineer had just told him that the chair was optimum for his body shape. Either the Vulcan was lying and having a joke on him, or something else that V'ras could not detect was wrong with the chair.

The new security crewmembers were now aboard with the Marines. The Marines had seemed enthusiastic with their assignment, when asked; one of them just replied that they were glad to get off the station. John wondered what they think they were going to do on a search and rescue ship on a mission to find a missing vessel. It wasn't as if the Nightingale was going to be looking for trouble; John was adamant he was going to try to avoid trouble as much as possible.

John was waiting for his mission advisor. Lieutenant Commander Hans had not reported in as of yet and John was getting impatient with the waiting. It was the Lieutenant Commander that was holding him up from leaving Starbase one-one-two, as soon as he reported in, they were going to leave. John tapped on the small desk top computer and accessed his personnel files. Looking through the list of appraisals that he could access, he saw no problems with his effort, attendance or punctuality, perhaps there was something else going on which was delaying the Geckonian.

Just as John was about to request the computer to locate the Lieutenant Commander the door chimed, "enter," ordered John from behind his desk, his eyes switching gaze from the screen to the door now, his hand pressing the off button on his computer and resting it on the table in a casual fashion.

A tall man, with green scaly skin walked into the room, his bold head feature yellow eyes and small slits for a nose, his mouth was wide, with a natural looking smile. The man's eyes switched to looking at John, "Lieutenant Commander Hans," he announced, "reporting for duty sir." The Geckonian's posture was a pure attention, his eyes now fixed on something on the back of the office wall, he did not move, he was perfectly still.

"Welcome aboard Commander," John said politely, "take you a long time to find the bridge?"

"Sir?" asked Hans, his voice full of surprise.

"You are late mister."

"Sorry sir," replied Hans, "I was merely setting up my quarters. They needed significant changes in order to allow me to live aboard ship."

John sat back in his chair and offered a hand to the chair in front of his desk, "what changes were necessary for you to able to live on the ship, this isn't a pleasure boat mister."

Hans did not move from the spot, his posture stuck in the same position as if he was a statue, one that talked. "I did not suggest that sir," he replied quickly, dismissing the comment from the Captain, John almost took offence and was about to reply when Hans continued, "its just my quarters were not hospitable to my species, I require the ambient temperature to be at forty two degrees centigrade, the humidity to be at sixty per cent, the lighting was too high and the bunk had to be removed."

John sat back, if all these changes were needed for him to survive on the ship; how was he able to survive now, "are those conditions the same as on your home world Commander?"

"Yes sir."

"What about when you are on the bridge, or elsewhere for that matter?" asked John more curious than anything else.

"I wear a special undergarment sir," Hans replied, he pulled up his shirt quickly to show the black vest that was hidden underneath his perfect Starfleet uniform, "it supplied my body with enough heat and moisture to keep me alive in the normal conditions aboard a Starfleet vessel." He returned the uniform into its normal position and stood back to the perfect attention.

"And you can't wear that device all the time?"

"No sir," replied Hans, "the device, as you call it, harms my outer epidermis, I require to undergo rejuvenation every night, and to reduce further damage to my skin, I require spending as much time in my original atmospheric conditions."

John nodded his head, "and you needed to set up that now as you probably needed certain equipment from your quarters on the Starbase."

Hans nodded in response. John sighed, "I'm sorry to have a go at you Commander, if I had realised..."

"No apology needed sir," Hans butted in.

"Commander if you aren't going to sit down, could you please stand at ease, you are making me feel too informal at the moment," John ordered abruptly, he had felt uncomfortable at the sight of the Lieutenant Commander stood in such formal manners, and he wanted to change the subject quickly from his earlier unnecessary scolding. "What is your opinion on the current situation?" John asked quickly.

Hans adopted an at ease posture, something that John seemed to think still looked a little too formal for what he wanted, but as the Geckonian wanted to be like that, it was as much as he was probably going to get. "The USS Brave has gone missing," Hans replied, John raised his eyebrows in astonishment, "I mean sir, I have no more information than you do, Geckonians prefer to speak of facts and not make assumptions."

"Understood," replied John, "let me ask you this, the Gorn, have you seen their fleet move like this before?"

Hans nodded quickly, "When the Gorn attacked my people sir."

"You think they might have attacked the Geckonian Alliance again?" John asked quickly. Hans turned his head and looked at John, then John internally slapped his forehead for such a stupid question, "of course you don't want to say, you don't make assumptions," he sighed turning his head slightly.

"If they have, they have one hell of a fight on their hands," Hans said proudly.

"What do you mean by that Commander?"

"The Geckonian fleet is more than a match for the Gorn military," Hans replied, his face smiling even more, John realised that the Geckonian mouth naturally turned upwards and that when they smiled it looked even bigger, almost creepy.

"Where do your loyalties lie Commander?" John asked, his voice strewed with a serious tone, his eyes fixed on the bright yellow of the Geckonian officer's.

"With Starfleet sir," he replied confidently, "but you cannot ask me not to care about my people," he replied, "I joined Starfleet for my people."

"How?"

"I wish for my people to join the Federation," Hans replied proudly, "I am not the only one, and the motion has been gathering a lot of momentum in our government over the past five years," Hans paused, his bright, forked tongue gracing the outer edges of his mouth, "there were rumours that after the Dominion War that the government would make the official application."

John sat back in his chair, that information alone seemed to draw new light on the situation, if the Geckonians were so willing to join the Federation; that would make it seem unlikely that they were aggressors, if there were any at all. It would have to be either a Gorn attack or a natural event that had affected the USS Brave.

"Okay Commander," John said smiling, "that will be all for now, I've set up a meeting for eight hundred hours in the morning, we should have reached the last known whereabouts of the Brave by then," he paused for a second and looked at his computer, "I want you to prepare a regional briefing," John announced, "I and some of my crew are completely new to this area of space, I spent most of my career near the Romulan border."

Hans nodded a crisp response, John was beginning to get an idea of what made his mission advisor click; he seemed all about duty. He wondered if all Geckonians were the same, or if this was a more dedicated officer than most. John could probably look that up on the computer, it would probably have somewhere in the vast species database a more detailed psychological profile of the species with their generalist attributes, but John preferred to stay away from such stereotypes, as the odd one never followed those traits. John had learnt from experience, thinking you know what your enemy is going to do can be fatal if you act on that presumption.

"Dismissed Commander," John said opening the door remotely from his desk. Hans nodded again, stood to a crisp, parade like attention and left the room in complete silence, but text book perfect.

At the door was Lieutenant Shrak, she waited for Hans to pass her, not a word or a glance switched between the two, though Shrak seemed obviously prepared to return a 'sir' if and when necessary.

"Come on in," welcomed John as Hans moved far enough away to allow the junior Lieutenant into the room, "what can I do for you?"

"Just wanted to report that all the security teams you sent me are doing great sir," she said politely as the door behind her slide quietly shut, "but I do have one problem."

"What is that Lieutenant?" asked John, knowing deep down that it was probably that the number was too short.

"I don't have enough men," she replied her antennae straightening up.

"I could barely ask for the twenty two men that are supposed to be standard Lieutenant," John announced, his voice almost apologetic, yet a sense of seniority stiffening the clear explanation, "we were only going to carry fourteen in the first place, the whole fleet is shorthanded, we can't expect to be only ship to fully manned."

Shrak narrowed her eyes slightly, "how can I expect to keep this ship secure unless I have a complete department?" she asked, annoyance firm in her voice.

"The same as Lieutenant V'ras has to cope with not having fifteen engineers, or that Lieutenant Visitor has to cope with only her and two other helmsmen," replied John, his voice now more dominant that he thought he would have to go with the Andorian, but as Jenkins had said to him, they did like to be a little aggressive.

Shrak stood herself to attention, "yes sir," she said crisply; John thought she might have been a little mocking.

"Don't worry Lieutenant," John added, "we will all help each other," he said smiling, she did not return the gesture.

"I better get back to my station sir."

"Dismissed," John replied opening the door to her. She quickly turned and left the room.

John sighed in relief; he had not thought that Shrak, of all people, would have acted like that, but the stress on the people running the departments were high. He had noted that some of the crew were working double shifts at the moment. Shrak had probably worked even more having just two people and twenty two jobs to do. John imagined bringing it up further when both had calmed down, but then saw his own body probably being all bruised from a confrontation that had gotten out of hand. He decided to leave it be and let her calm down from the problem, her department had just got a lot of people to do the man hours needed, her workload would probably decrease considerably.

John tapped on the comm button and told Dan to make preparations depart. Dan acknowledged the request and said they would be ready to leave in five minutes. John felt he could do nothing useful in that time but still didn't want to enter the bridge so soon. He sat in his chair, the uncomfortable furniture still pushing into his back. After two minutes he decided on giving up and got out of his chair and walked onto the bridge to oversee the departure from the starbase.


	9. Chapter 9

**Stardate 53115.6**

**USS Nightingale, Briefing Room**

The senior staff all sat at chairs in the Briefing Room, situated just behind the bridge and adjacent to the command and control room. Each of the senior officers had been summoned to the briefing that Captain wanted to hold late last night. Lieutenant Commander Hans was on duty for most of last night, and what would have normally made a human look the worse for wear, Hans looked as fresh as a daisy. Doctor Burton was obviously trying to avoid eye contact with Commander Hawke who was sat opposite her. Her eyes quickly flicking her eyes up to meet his were met by a cold stare from the executive officer. Her only recourse was to stare back at the table and shift her body to redistribute her light weight on the chair.

Torlik was sat motionless in his chair further down on the table, sat next to the chief science officer, Paul Williams, was engaging in conversation with Lieutenant Visitor. V'ras sat ignoring everyone at the table, just reading a data padd. Apart from the conversation between Williams and Visitor, there was little noise being made in the room.

Captain John Wilcox walked into the room, right on the dot of eight hundred hours, looking round at everyone. "Good morning," he said breezily at everyone, there was a reply of greetings that John could barely here. He pulled up to his chair and laid a hand across the back looking down the table. Everyone he saw at the table seemed to want to be somewhere else, even his mission advisor seemed to be somewhere that wasn't on the ship. _I'm going to have to motivate these people quickly, _John thought to himself, _otherwise I have no chance on this mission._

"Okay let's be clear," John said out loud to the room, "we are going to find the Brave."

V'ras gave a quick glance up. John noticed this and moved his head to look directly at the Vulcan chief engineer, "have you something to add Lieutenant V'ras?"

"Captain," he replied dispassionately, "it seems highly unlikely that the USS Brave would survive this long without any word from them." The Vulcan tipped his head slightly, "even the most poorly equipped vessel should have either been noticed or sent out a signal by now."

John shook his head as he pulled out the chair and carefully placed himself at the head of the table. "It all depends what happened to them Lieutenant," John said.

"With all due respect sir," Hawke piped up quickly, turning his attention for the first time since entering the briefing room away from Lieutenant Commander Burton to the Captain, something that John hadn't missed. "Starfleet seem a little late in sending us, what on Earth can we do this late on?"

John gave a stare at Dan, wondering what he was doing, blatantly forming a rigid barrier between the two of them, as an executive officer. He was supposed to be the one that gave alternatives, but at the end of the day supported John and get behind the mission. His outburst was nothing more than a condemning the mission before they had really started it. John didn't need that kind of behaviour from his first officer or his friend.

"Commander Hawke, if Starfleet is sending us, I am sure they think that the Brave is alive and well," John paused for a moment looking down the line of concentrating faces all looking at him. It dawned on him for the first time that he was responsible for all their safety, it was his decisions that would mean they would live or die, it had not occurred to him until this moment that it was on his shoulders that everyone would get home, "we just need to make sure we find her before it is too late."

Torlik sat himself upright, "with our sensors, finding the USS Brave shouldn't be a problem," he announced, "we do have the best sensors in the fleet."

John smiled, at least that was some positive thought, "medical facilities can more than cope with the casualties that are expected from the USS Brave." John looked to his left hand side, where Lieutenant Commander Burton sat; she looked up briefly and smiled at John.

Shrak raised her head and her antennae pointed forward, "Captain, what about combat potential?"

John had tried not to think about combat potential, certainly there was a possibility of it, going near any missing ship's last known position carried certain risks, including combat, but John was still holding out for another solution. Now Shrak had pointed out the obvious, probably what everyone on the ship knew about, John was unable to hide away from the problem, his ship was in no condition for a sustained combat role. If she had to rescue people under fire there would be no hope.

Hans leaned forward, "the Gorn weaponry is inferior to that of Starfleet's."

"It's not a question of whether their weaponry is comparable to Starfleet Commander," replied Hawke looking down the table at the Geckonian sat at the opposite end, "its about the fire power that we can offer in a combat role."

Shrak nodded her head vigorously, "Gorn vessels tend to carry six disruptor banks and multiple torpedo launchers," Shrak looked at Hans with a cold stare, John noted the look and wondered what it was trying to convey. "The Nightingale has only three phaser banks, two forward and one rear, and only two forward facing standard torpedo tubes," Shrak explained.

Hawke looked at Shrak and then shot a look at John. John sighed, "Okay so we are not the most armed vessel in the fleet, but that doesn't mean that we can't handle ourselves, our shields are the strongest in Starfleet."

Shrak nodded, "and our armour is fantastic," she paused for a moment, "but against the standard Gorn cruiser, we would stand no chance."

"We don't know that," John said abruptly, "Lieutenant Commander Hans, you've had the most experience fighting the Gorn," everyone looked shocked and turned to face the Geckonian officer, whose expression did not change one little bit, "what can you tell us about their tactics?"

Hans raised his eyebrows, "the Gorn have developed a rather unique method of attack," he said calmly, "traditionally the Gorn like to board ships, three to four groups of five men and start fire fights across the vessel," he paused for another second tightening his lips, "it is designed to separate a crew from their stations giving their ships an easier target."

Hawke stood up, "doesn't that mean that they lose the men on the ship if they destroy it?"

Hans shook his head, "although the risk is high for the crewmembers that do beam aboard, their losses are generally less than forty per cent, the Gorn will tend to beam back their death squads as the ship systems fail."

"A sure fire way to make sure your opponent is distracted in battle," John said quietly, "what options do we have in order to combat this tactic?"

Shrak positioned herself slightly more forward, "we could just raise our shields should we have any contact with a Gorn ship," she suggested, sarcasm strewn throughout her voice. V'ras raised his eyebrows before shrugging at John, which John thought was about as useful as Shrak's suggestion. John cast his eye down the rest of the table to the quiet group of officers.

Torlik was about to say something, but suddenly sat back in his chair. John waited for a few seconds for the ensign to talk, for the past few days, John had been impressed by the abilities of Torlik. However his attitude was something that needed vast improvements. Even his crew felt that he had a little bit of an attitude problem. "Ensign Torlik," John addressed in a stern voice, the only way that Torlik seemed to respond to, "did you have something to add?"

Torlik looked up at the Captain, a cold stare coming from his eyes like a light from a lighthouse penetrating across the room at John. John felt that uneasy feeling with Torlik again. "No sir."

John contemplated his options, he could dress down the officer now right in front of the rest of the senior crew, his posture and attitude certainly deserved it, but it would not have brought out the best in Torlik, only make the situation worse. He could dress him down latter, but that wouldn't do any good, any inappropriate behaviour or mistakes should be addressed immediately, or the effect of the lesson becomes significantly poorer. In fact if left too long the officer might not take any notice of the message. John decided to take no notice of the officer's behaviour and concentrate on the mission.

Shrak raised his antenna's in a more threatening tone, "what about we shoot first should we find a Gorn vessel in Geckonian space," she suggested with a tone that hid no sarcasm or joking tone, she was being serious, "after all, we all know that the Geckonian and Gorn aren't exactly friends, I would find it hard to believe that a Gorn would be welcome in Geckonian terriroty."

Hans leaned forward, clasping his hands yet again, "The Geckonian government orders all its military officers to shoot on sight any Gorn inside the Geckonian territory."

"Would the Geckonians send out a distress signal if they were under attack by the Gorn?" Shrak asked Hans looking vaguely at the officer.

Hans widened his eyes, had he been mammalian he might have raised his eyebrows John thought, but he was a reptilian and so did not have any eyebrows. His posture was also vastly different to those of other mammalian species, he sat bolt upright in his chair, his head turning slowly rather than at the speed that he would have expected. This was the first time that John had met a reptilian officer in Starfleet and was nervous about some of the problems that could arise from his being on the ship, especially his heat requirements.

"The Geckonian military is a proud organisation," Hans replied, "I have no idea if they would send out a distress signal, it would depend very much on the individual Captain and crew of the ship."

John sniggered silently to himself, Hans had not committed yet again. He was not going to be a useful mission advisor if he could not offer any advice other than information, which would more than likely be limited to the little data that John had obtained through Starfleet Intelligence. John raised his hand and the room fell silent and all the eyes in the room were concentrating on him.

"We'll make this easy," John said, "Lieutenant Visitor please set a course for the last known position of the USS Brave at the position of the Geckonian distress signal," John ordered, the young girl nodded her head in response which John himself replied in the same gesture.

"Have we got permission to enter Geckonian space Captain?" a concerned Dan asked.

"I don't care," John's defiance of the Geckonian borders present in his orders, "one of our ships went missing in their territory; responding to a Geckonian distress call, we will enter their territory."

A sudden hush fell over the collection of the senior officers, John wished he had been a telepath or empathic at this moment, listening to each of their thoughts. It would certainly make controlling easier and not a gamble on their collective and individual responses. "Everyone by Commander Hawke is dismissed," John said looking at his first officer.

Everyone except Commander Hawke stood up and shuffled quietly out of the room. John barely heard Ensign Williams voice just outside of the briefing room pointing out his little involvement in the room, though his comment was not a moan or a complaint as such, it was a simple observation. Commander Hawke stayed perfectly still in his seat, looking impassively at John.

"I thought you were going to be a supportive executive officer," John asked his first officer with an annoyed tone.

"I am a supportive first officer," Dan replied leaning slightly forward.

"You are not," John paused for a moment, his mind filled with anger at the earlier comments his first officer had made, some things which did not support the mission, "we are the command staff Dan, we need to sell the mission to the crew and not damn it in front of the other officers."

"I can't support the mission," Dan replied, "I think Starfleet have been idiots, the USS Hood has been in the area since the Brave has been missing and could have been used to search for the vessel."

John shook his head, "The Hood has not been sat on her warp core doing nothing, she's being conducting scans for us and protecting the border."

"Captain," the response from Dan was sharp, "the crew of the USS Brave are mostly likely dead and you know it."

"That is not for you to say in front of the senior officers, your job is to give me alternatives to plans; give backing to the missions and to carry out my orders," John explained, his voice sounding bossy, "you so far have not done your job."

Dan was about to open his mouth, probably to complain John thought, but said nothing. Instead he stood up, at attention.

"You are dismissed Commander," John ordered.

Dan stormed out of the room, his posture not exactly as John would have wanted from his most senior officer and friend. John wondered what the next problem would be on his crew, what was the next disaster that would completely crash down on him. His fingers tapping on the table he sat at made a relaxing rhythmic tune, but did nothing to alleviate the tension that John felt or solve the impending disaster he foresaw on his ship. For not the first time since getting Command, he wished he was somewhere else, anywhere else, but in Starfleet.


	10. Chapter 10

**Stardate 53115.7: **

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

John walked onto the bridge of the Nightingale in a rush. He had been down in engineering looking at the warp core, for nothing more than old times' sake. When he was a helmsman on other ships he use to spend hours looking at the warp core as a way to relax and think of solutions. The core's constantly changing colour scheme seemed to give him inspiration like nothing else could. At the moment he certainly needed the inspiration for a number of problems. The location of the USS Brave, his failing first officer and the crews apparent poor moral was enough to deal with without having the added pressure of a possible problem with not just one but two other nations, the Gorn and Geckonians. Despite Han's assurances that the Geckonians had only peaceful intentions towards the Federation he could not help but feel that they could be partly responsible for the Brave's disappearance.

"Report," he said as he left the turbolift, noticing that Dan was on watch.

Dan looked up to the Captain and removed himself from the Captain's chair, just in time for John to reach the centre piece to the bridge, "we have just crossed into Geckonian space Captain," Dan reported.

John sat down in his chair and rubbing his hands down the arm rests slowly. "Good," he responded, "have sensors picked up any vessels yet?"

Williams, who was at his science station to the port side of the bridge, quickly ran his hands over several consoles, the panel beeping in a merry tune. "Long range sensors have not detected a single vessel," he reported calmly, "however there does appear to be a lot of sensor interference going on."

John noticed Dan sitting down in the chair to his right, John thought about giving a friendly smile at this point, but it was not the right time nor were the two currently on those terms.

"Is the sensor interference natural or artificial?" Dan asked in a commanding voice.

"Definitely artificial," Williams responded confidently, his hands busy over the consoles at his station, "looking at this data I would say it wasn't Gorn technology," he paused slightly turning round from his console to look at the Captain. John could just about hear what was coming next in his head; it was something that he hoped he would not hear. "It seems that the Geckonians are attempting to block sensors from working in their space."

Hans, who was standing at the rail behind the Captain's chair, near a small console walked towards to the science station, "that doesn't make sense," he stated.

"Why not Commander?" asked John watching his mission advisor's puzzled look.

"I have never known the Geckonian military to block sensors," Hans replied, on reaching the science console with Williams in front of him he seemed to look over the readings, "but they are certainly blocking the sensors of all vessels."

John looked at Dan, "why would they block sensors in the area?"

"To stop someone from using them?" Dan replied, his point obvious, but it was the only explanation, "but whose sensors are they trying to block?"

"Perhaps they detected us entering their space and they don't want us in?" Shrak asked, her posture at the tactical station more relaxed than John had seen her for some time; she was probably enjoying the thought of having some kind of action on the ship.

"My people would not have been able to set this up in this amount of short time," Hans replied, "to create a field of this size; it would take hundreds of ships, days to create." Hans walked over to the helm control station where Chloe Visitor was still piloting the vessel, John had noticed that she and Torlik had not joined in the conversation, but whereas Torlik had seemed to be a listener to the conversation, Chloe seemed to be ignoring the conversation completely.

"Miss Visitor," John said, "if we carry on our current speed, how long until we reach the location of the distress signal that the USS Brave responded to?"

Chloe tapped on her console, "one hour sir," she replied with a little hesitation in her voice.

"What is it Lieutenant?" Dan asked standing up joining the mission advisor at the console at the front of the bridge, both of the men scrutinizing the readouts on the console that Lieutenant Visitor was trying to gently use.

"There seems to be some debris slightly closer than that, on the flight path," Chloe replied, her voice uncertain.

"The USS Brave would have flown through that area on the way to the distress signal," Williams added.

Hans looked at the scans on the console and frowned, "I would suggest that we check out the area before proceeding to the distress signal's position." Dan seemed to nod at the suggestion that the mission advisor made.

"Shrak," John tried to regain the attention of his Andorian tactical officer, "do you foreseen much danger in the action?"

Shrak shook her head.

John raised himself from his seat and pulled instinctively down on his shirt. He looked around the bridge and saw a number of the crew, including all the senior officers on the bridge; Commander Walker, Lieutenant Commander Hans, Lieutenants Visitor and Shrak and Ensigns Torlik and Williams, were focusing their attention on the Captain. "Helm, set a course for that debris field," he ordered nervously, "Williams, can you tell if the debris is the USS Brave or not?"

Williams punched more commands into his computer terminal on the bridge. He quickly read out some of the readings under his breath, something that John could not hear and was not happy about hearing.

"I doubt that much of the debris is that of the Brave sir," he said, "half of the hull components seem to be made from Polyduranide," he turned to face Lieutenant Commander Hans who seemed to be nodding.

"Polyduranide is used in the construction of Geckonian military vessels," Hans stated out loud across the bridge, "Starfleet don't construct vessels with Polyduranide." He paused for a second looking at the sensor logs on the navigational computer, "it seems too large to be a single vessel," he stated, "I would say that at least seven Geckonian vessels were destroyed by the amount of Polyduranide at the location."

John noticed something on Hans face; he looked a mixture of sadness and anger. The realisation that the Geckonians had lost some vessels in the area had come to Hans and John. A new question now surfaced in John's head, _was the USS Brave responsible for their destruction?_ John looked across the room at Williams and wondered for a second, "Williams you said half of the debris field was polyduranide," Williams turned his attention towards the Captain, "what is the other half of the debris field made of?"

Williams shrugged his shoulders in a poor gesture for a Starfleet officer, "I don't know Captain," he replied afterwards, "sensors can't identify it."

Hans walked up to the centre of the bridge, standing next to John and Dan. John noticed the warmth from the suit that Hans wore he was that close and felt a little uncomfortable with the temperature that the undergarment was radiating out from his body. "The USS Brave is not there," Hans said his charm for the obvious continuing.

"Maybe so Commander," John said returning to his chair, the snug seat wrapping itself around him like a child's blanket, reassuring and comforting, "but it seems more than logical that the USS Brave was there and that a clue of the events that led up to her disappearance; could help us track her down."

"Course laid in Captain," Visitor stated loudly, John thought she must have been waiting a while for her orders but had been too shy to say something in amongst the other officer's talking about the debris field.

"Engage, warp nine Lieutenant," John ordered.

**Stardate 53115.7: **

**Gorn Imperial Cruiser Vor, Captain's Quarters**

General Slov sat on the floor of his lavish quarters on the Gorn Imperial Cruiser Vor. One of the latest cruisers to be designed and built by the Gorn Empire, it boasted an impressive military capability. Her seven disruptor banks and five phaser arrays coupled with the three pulse firing torpedo launchers made her one of the most heavily armed vessels in the region. Certainly more than a match for any pathetic Geckonian vessel that patrolled nearby.

Its initial combat had proven its worth in the field, destroying eight Geckonian vessels in a matter of minutes. The weapon banks on the ship tearing holes right through the disgusting Geckonian hulls. But the initial battles against the horrid blood enemy had not all gone great, some were even disasters. The General knew his career rested on the results of one key battle now, the fight for the Geckonian home world. The warm sandy jewel, in the heart of the Geckonian nation, was where most of the enemy fleet had retreated to a couple of days ago. The rest of the enemy vessels; some estimated twenty five had formed raiding parties and were ambushing any of his forces that seemed opportune. Slav had lost two resupply ships in the last twelve hours due to this.

However the raiding parties could do nothing against his main force that was nearing to the Geckonian home system. He had amassed a fleet of three hundred vessels in order to capture the system. But unfortunately, due to untimely circumstances the Geckonians now had two hundred and fifty ships in the system, more than four times than what Slov had intended. The interference of the Federation made his thoughts turn to what else might be in the system waiting for him, a Federation task force perhaps? Just a handful of Starfleet warships could turn the close battle he was now anticipating into a bad bloodbath for his men to endure, something that would certainly end his political career and more than likely his life.

Calling off the attack would be just as dangerous to his career. His enemies back home would use his failure to defeat an inferior neighbour, an excuse to remove him from the ruling council that gave him protection from potential political assassins. There was every right to fear assassins on the Gorn homeworld, political motivated murders were responsible for two hundred deaths and three civil wars in the past decade. Slov himself rose to prominence by killing off his mentor General Ipil when he surrendered his forces during the land assault on Geckonia in the last war. At the bottom of the political ladder murder and assassination plots were events to be embraced, at the top they were something to be feared.

Slov had the reserves of his fleet, including his own flagship, scanning the Federation - Geckonian border. He hoped that any task force that Starfleet sent, he could intercept before they reached the main battle. His hope lay in a couple of facts; the first being the small amount of time that Starfleet would have in getting a task force together in order to aid the Geckonians and the second was the current condition of Starfleet. Slov knew that if Starfleet wanted to help the Geckonians they would have had only a matter of days to piece together a relief force. Given that their commanders would most likely want to keep a strong presence along the borders they shared, Slov estimated that Starfleet would only be able to send ten to fifteen ships. To combat this Slov had thirty ships, he would hopefully outnumber them two to one. It was also no secret that Starfleet was suffering from man power shortages and vessels which were in need of major maintenance. Since the end of the Dominion War, both man power and maintenance were in high demand and short supply in Starfleet, and Slov hoped that this was something still in his favour.

The door to his cabin swung open and in the doorway stood Major Drang, his tactical advising officer. Slov knew that of all the people on the vessel he know had, he was the most likely to attempt to take his life, but he was the best tactical officer around and that made him a valuable officer, for the moment.

"Sensors have detected a Federation vessel entering Geckonian space General," Drang reported, his voice typically slow and the under laying scratching of the back of the throat piecing the air like a dagger, like the one that Slov imagined was poised in his back, held by this man.

"Just one?" Slov questioned, "Starfleet would surely send more than one. Have you checked the readings? The Geckonians are using strong sensor blockers."

Drang nodded confidently, "the Federation vessel is going to same co-ordinates as the previous vessel."

"Why would they go..." Slov quickly paused as he thought about the only explanation, and for the first time he thanked his luck. "The Brave must not have made it back to Federation space," he announced a loud, "which means Starfleet has no knowledge of the war." Slov's voice sounded excited.

"How can you know that sir?"

"Because one ship travelling in the wrong direction is not what Starfleet would do," Slov's career and life might be saved at last, "we need to make sure the vessel does not report what is going on, set an intercept course and prepare for battle," Slov's order was sharp and concise.

His tactical officer gave a wide, sinister smile and left the room. He was more than likely happy to engage the Federation once again. Slov did not matter about such things, his mission was to capture the Geckonian home world, and he would order his forces to engage the enemy, the quicker he did it, the more chance he had at completing his mission, and now it looked more evident that he could do just that.


	11. Chapter 11

**Stardate 53115.8**

_**Captain's Log:** The USS Nightingale has arrived at the large debris field that we detected and due to our proximity the field obstructing our sensors is now diminished. We are now able to complete more thorough scans. So far we have confirmed very little, other than there is no wreckage of any Starfleet or Federation vessel, which bodes well that the USS Brave, she may still be out here._

End Log.

**Stardate 53115.8**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

John stood over the science station looking deep within the screen at the scan data that Williams had brought up. There was nothing concrete on what was out there. John had hoped for a little more clarity than he was being given. All he knew was that there was little evidence that the USS Brave was still in the area, in one piece or, dreading the thought, otherwise.

"Definitely a number of Geckonian vessels," Williams replied bringing up a couple of the hull fragments on the computer screen, with the computer showing a mesh of what would complete the ship. "Judging from the hull components we have here, I think we will be looking at about sixteen vessels possibly more."

"Continue with your analysis Mr Williams," John ordered, "Let me know as soon as you've identified the other hull signatures." Williams nodded and continued with some other scans. It seemed almost odd that the computer hadn't figured out what the other ships were, but it was not impossible that these ships were not known to the Federation.

John walked over to navigation at the front of the bridge where Visitor was busy keeping track of the fragments that were far from stationary, making course corrections as she avoided the ship from being struck by large fragments the size of houses, "You keeping on top of the debris?" John asked confidently. Lieutenant Visitor nodded as she instructed the ship on another course correction.

"It would be easier if we kept a further distance sir," she stated.

"I know Lieutenant," John replied placing his hand on her shoulder sympathetically, he knew how hard it was to pilot a ship in these conditions, "But we need to be as close as possible to get better readings with all this sensor interference."

John's internal thought was busy, he knew now that something had happened in the vicinity of the area that was big, sixteen Geckonian vessels had been destroyed, the USS Brave had responded to something and another hull fragment was out there. Was that Gorn or someone else?

Williams suddenly gasped that brought the whole bridge to concentrate on him. John waited a few seconds for the inexperienced officer to compose himself. "Captain," he shouted from across the room, John would have preferred a little more composure than that from a senior officer, "Another vessel is on sensors, approaching at high warp."

John immediately turned to Shrak, the Andorian was already busy on her sensor readouts, "Lieutenant, report, is it a Geckonian vessel?" His quick question seemed to have no effect on the speed of the Andorian's work, she continued at the same rushed pace.

Shrak studied her scans, her antenna twisting and turning in weird and speedy ways that almost gave John stomach ache, "I don't think so," she stated, "it looks like a Gorn heavy cruiser, but I don't recognise the design, must be one of their new ones Captain."

John refocused his attention immediately to the viewscreen which now showed a tactical overlay and pushed his lips together tightly. It felt like it was no coincidence that they turned up just as he arrived, was his initial suspensions correct, but could he be that presumptuous. "Lieutenant yellow alert, keep shields down," John ordered quickly as he walked over to his command chair to press the internal communications button, "Commander Hawke and Lieutenant Commander Hans to the bridge please." Both of his senior officers were in cargo bays studying fragments of the debris field, looking for weapon signatures.

A short buzz sounded to announce the change in alert status, John noted a couple of officers changing stations and Williams changing his posture, to being more alert. Hans arrived on the bridge first; his breathing was rushed, as if he had raced to the bridge.

"Captain," he announced his arrival in his usual unemotional voice, "you asked for me to report in."

"A Gorn vessel is approaching our position at high warp," stated John, "what can we expect?"

Hans walked down to beside the Captain and looked at the viewscreen, where the sensor telemetry was being displayed. "Gorn vessels would never be allowed access to Geckonian space without a challenge, and certainly not freely allowed to roam the space." Hans' cold manner and the way he used the term of Geckonian made him seem unattached, but John suspected that deep in his logic and his thoughts was hatred and anger directed towards the Gorn.

"So what can we expect from them Commander?" John repeated his question as the officer had not given him an answer.

"It would depend on whether or not the Gorn view the Federation as being allies with Geckonia or see your motives here as being anything but neutral," Hans would not speculate as to what this ship wanted, and John realised he was asking the wrong question.

"If they were hostile Commander," he paused for a second, hoping that this might yield some positive answer, "What would they do?"

Hans raised an eyebrow quickly, "If they were hostile," he paused briefly, "they would first board this vessel with a tactical team, designed to draw your attention away from space battle that they would then start."

John immediately saw the threat involved; a boarding party could cause havoc and reduce their ability to return fire should fleet action start. There strategy seemed high risk, but also ingenious at the same time. "We should raise shields then?" John asked.

Hans shook his head, "they would see that as a hostile act and immediately fire."

Commander Hawke walked onto the bridge, "Gorn vessel sir?" he asked.

John nodded and pointed to the viewscreen, "About thirty seconds out."

Hawke joined the Captain and Hans in the centre of the room and gave a look to John that he instantly recognised as a fear of combat. "Are we going to raise shields?"

"No," John replied quickly, "Lets see what they do first. No need to aggravate them now is there."

John watched as the Gorn vessel came to a standstill in front of them. It fearsome bulk unsettling him, it had the look of a warship, a killer and of a predator.

"Captain," Lieutenant Visitor spoke up, "sir with all due respect we are too close to the debris field, should we need to leave, we will be impaired by the hull fragments."

"Noted," John replied, moving the ship might seem like an aggressive act, something he wanted to try and avoid.

"The Gorn vessel is hailing us," Shrak announced from across the room, John looked at her and nodded.

Turning round to the viewscreen he saw the green scales of a Gorn appear, it had been the first time that he had ever seen a Gorn and he was amazed by the instinctual fear that he felt in his stomach, a fear that he should run.

"_Captain, I am General Slov, Commander of the Imperial Cruiser Vor and the Gorn fleet in the area_," his slow voice irritated the ears of Captain Wilcox, "_Are you lost Captain?_"

John stood for a moment before stepping forward and distancing himself from the other officers, "I am Captain John Wilcox, Commander of the USS Nightingale, a Federation vessel. Can you explain your presence here?" John heard his own voice, it sounded still enough, despite his internal fear, but was it enough to be convincing to the Gorn adversary.

"_You have no jurisdiction in Geckonian space Captain, I do not have to answer to you_," Slov replied over the screen, something John knew, but anyone with good intentions would have immediately announced them, which meant that he certainly didn't. "_What are you doing here?_"

"We are responding to a distress call received from this location," John replied, it was a lie, but the Gorn might believe it, if the USS Brave hadn't of faced them yet.

"_We too are responding to a distress call_," there was something in the voice that made John not trust the voice; it was too slow, too thoughtful. "_It would appear that we are too late, have you rescued any of the survivors?_"

The concern did not seem genuine from John's point of view, every moment that this conversation carried on the more troubled John felt. John gave a quick glance over to Hans, who was staring at the screen with despise on his face. John walked over to him and whispered into his ear, "Commander, whatever happened between Gorn and Geckonia you must remain objective."

Hans turned to face John, his eyes now reddened with rage, "Sir," he said calmly, "it is hard to remain objective when you are dealing with that monster who personally murdered nearly a million of my people."

John turned round to the viewscreen, hopefully Slov would assume they were talking about survivors, "What do you mean?"

"He was second in Command of the land invasion of Geckonia," Hans stated, "He executed any Geckonian he found, including civilians."

"I _see you have a survivor on your ship Captain_," Slov paused for a second and smiled something that gave a further shiver down John's back, "_I could take him back to Geckonia to spare you the trouble_."

"That is awfully kind of you," John stated as he walked towards the screen again, he hoped that his smile would seem real, but he himself felt like a fraud, "but this is Lieutenant Commander Hans, a member of my crew."

"_The Hans?_" Slov's voice was higher than normal and bitterness seemed to be embedded in it, "_The hero Hans?_"

John turned to Hans, who had turned his anger into a defiant look, "I defeated Slov at the Battle of Tumick Pass," Hans stated, "I lost over six thousand men during the battle, Slov lost nearly one hundred thousand. It caused the withdrawal of the Gorn fleet in the first war. According to Geckonian intelligence, Slov lost his rank, his privileges and nearly his life."

"_I could have done_," Slov added over the viewscreen, "_But I am not as soft as any Geckonian, I killed the real culprit of our failure, General Ipil and took his place_."

"Must have been hard General for you to kill the person who had mentored you through your career," Hans eyes narrowed, "How dedicated you must be to your cause; willing to sacrifice your men, your friends. How noble of you."

Slov seemed to shudder, John noted, a kink in the reptilian armour. "_You must hand that Geckonian scum over immediately Captain as there are outstanding charges of war crimes against him_," Slov shouted down the comm line, John didn't like where this was going.

"There are charges against you too Slov," Hans replied angrily, "the only difference is that yours are real, whereas mine are fabricated."

Slov angrily hit the panel that was resting in front of him, "_Turn in that murderer Captain, or I will open fire on another Federation vessel_."

John's attention was caught, he looked at the General and using a calmed voice asked the only question that was relevant. "You are responsible for the disappearance of the Brave?"

"_Yes_," replied Slov confidently, proudly raising his head up a little, "_And I will destroy any vessel, Federation or Geckonian that gets in the way of me taking what is rightfully Gorn_."

"Cut him off," John ordered sharply, "Red alert, raise shields and power up the weapons."

"Captain," Shrak suddenly shouted from across the room, "transporter signals from across the ship, they are attempting to board the vessel."

John accessed the internal communications on his commbadge quickly, clicking to make sure that all channels would be open, "All hands, intruder alert, arm yourselves."


	12. Chapter 12

**Stardate 53115.8**

**USS Nightingale, Main Engineering**

V'ras stood in the middle of engineering. He had heard the announcement from the Captain, he had felt the mix of emotions briefly pass over him. It was illogical to ignore that he had emotions, he had them and they ran deep within him. The only difference between him and the rest of the crew; is that he was able to control them.

"You heard the Captain," he shouted across the two decks of engineering, "Arm yourselves."

V'ras walked calmly over to the emergency phaser locker that was attached to the wall in the corner of the lower engineering deck, using his command code he opened it, flinging the lid downwards and grabbed the nearest phaser, placing it in his trouser holster. He made time to pass out the other three in the locker to personnel standing near him, he was the senior officer, he had a responsibility for the rest of the crew in this area. One of the people close to him was a young human crewman who had only just joined Starfleet. V'ras noted that he looked nervous. "Do not worry crewman," V'ras heard himself say, "concentrate on the job at hand and you will be fine."

The young man nodded and ran back to his station.

"Lieutenant," one of V'ras non commissioned officers spoke up to get his attention. V'ras walked over quickly looking around for the potential of intruders, "The energy beams that are typical of the Gorn transporter system are being deflected from all over the ship."

V'ras took a look at the sensor data. Something did seem to be deflecting the transport locks from across the ship; it was buying him and the rest of the crew some time. "Do you know what is doing it?"

The enlisted man shook his head.

"The debris perhaps?" V'ras quickly bringing up the scan reports, but a quick glance showed nothing unusual from the debris field.

"It looks like it's our own ship," the enlisted man replied, "But I know of nothing on the ship that could do this."

V'ras studied the dispersal pattern on the scan log. "You are correct. This ship is certainly deflecting the beam, not allowing it re-materialise the object. But how is it doing that?"

The senior crewman looked at his readings, "Our shields are up," he announced, "that should stop the beaming in anyway for a while."

V'ras cocked his head, "Its not," he pointed to a signature developing on the deck he was standing on. "They've developed a way in which to beam through shields." V'ras hit his commbadge, "Engineering to bridge, the Gorn have developed a method to beam through shields, I need a security team down in engineering, I've got an intruder materialising."

_"Marines under the command of Commander Hawke and Lieutenant Commander Hans en-route Engineering."_

V'ras recognised the voice of Lieutenant Shrak, her Andorian accent and way of speaking tearing through the communications channel.

V'ras noted that an energy beam was starting to develop near to the warp core, V'ras quickly thought of his next command, "All personnel take cover, intruder in engineering, near the warp core."

He quickly ducked behind a console that hid him from the intruders. There was nothing they could do; the intruder's beam in point was directly in front of the warp core giving them complete cover at from fire in almost every position. If they attempted to return fire, they risked hitting the warp core and that could destroy the whole ship. The logical move was to allow them to move away from the system and attack them then.

As the figures of ten Gorn appeared, V'ras felt a sudden rush of adrenaline run through his green blood. He felt like he could take them all on, but that was a foolish thought. Immediately the Gorn with rifles slung from the waist, started shooting at personnel who were scattered across the two decks. V'ras hoped his people had found enough cover to protect them. He noticed a couple of his people return fire. He shouted to make sure that the crewmembers knew not to fire, but a couple of more shots made it clear that they didn't understand or some didn't hear the command in the heat of battle.

V'ras' only way to ensure the safety of the ship was to erect a shield around the warp core, allowing any accidental hits to cause little or no damage. But the problem with his plan was the controls to do so were on the other side of the engineering deck. Not a path that would take him close to the Gorn intruders who had taken up defensive positions of their own, but out of cover and a tempting target.

V'ras touched the shoulder of the senior crewmember who was squatted near him, and then to the young crewmember who was next to him. "We need to erect a force field around the warp core. I can do that from over there and it would only take a few seconds, but I need you to give me covering fire."

The two men both gave a reassuring nod. As they lifted themselves up and fired their weapons; V'ras made his move, darting across the room to an exposed console. He noticed a burst of energy hit a nearby console as he tapped on the controls. A moment later, he heard the beep confirming the force field initiating. He looked around to see the blue energy field defending the vulnerable system, knowing his job was done he raced back to the cover he had just emerged from.

As V'ras got down he saw the young crewman lying on the floor. He checked his neck for a pulse but found nothing. Tapping his commbadge, V'ras gave the order to fire upon the enemy contacts.

Just as V'ras was about fire his own weapon he saw another transporter beam materialise a team of ten invaders. The odds were being stacked against him and his team. He looked down at the body of the young man that lay lifeless on the deck and wondered how many of his people, how many of the crew were now dead.

The ship suddenly shook, now the Gorn had started the space battle. At least they might not be beaming on any more people.

V'ras shot at one of the Gorn aggressors, his reptilian body ducking slowly out of the way. V'ras flinched, it was a bad miss. But looking around his crew's firing was keeping their heads down.

Suddenly a tap on his shoulder was felt, it was Commander Hawke and a team of four marines. V'ras nodded.

"Situation report Lieutenant," Hawke asked as two marines took up positions behind consoles and started firing, the other two knelt close to the Commander.

"We've got twenty hostiles, they've taken defensive positions on the far side of the engineering deck, behind the warp core," V'ras turned round as a shot thundered above their heads, "I've erected a force field around the warp core, so there is no danger of a warp breech."

Hawke nodded, he looked confident, "Commander Hans has four marines and is attempting to attack them from above, is there any escape from that area of engineering?"

V'ras nodded, "A small access tube allows access from there to the corridor in sections 34 and 35."

Hawke nodded, "Marines, we'll take up positions near there, try to take them out if they should attempt a retreat."

The four marines all nodded and evacuated with Commander Hawke the way that they had entered. V'ras noted that they replaced the hatch to the Jeffries tube as they exited. V'ras took up his position again at the console and fired a few shots off, hitting one of the intruders. He suddenly noticed a blue pulse fire from the upper deck. The other marines had arrived.

V'ras watched as two of the Gorn attackers were hit and immediately fell onto the ground, looking as if they had been fatally hit. The concentration of fire had obviously startled the Gorn attackers as they moved towards the hatched that V'ras had told the executive officer about. Hawke was right about what they would do if faced with further fire power. Two of the Gorn were obviously giving cover fire to the remaining soldiers. V'ras counted them in his mind, he counted twelve escaping, two on rear guard positions.

"V'ras to Hawke, twelve should be coming to your position in moments," he noted.

"_Acknowledged, we'll be ready_," Hawke replied over the comms channel.

V'ras got a shot off at the last Gorn standing as he fell to the ground. The four marines and Hans quickly slid down the ladder and landed on the deck. Two of the marines checked the Gorn for signs of life, while the other two covered their escape route. V'ras thought it most logical behaviour considering the Gorn could easily double back and attack the Engineering room again. V'ras couldn't help but admire the marines and their professionalism.

V'ras engineering crew quickly re-manned their stations, but there were obvious missing personnel. V'ras looked around for who was missing; he counted seven personnel not at their stations. He knew one had died, but how many others.

"You have casualties on the upper deck Lieutenant," Hans reported.

"How many sir?" V'ras couldn't help but ask.

"At least one dead, two wounded," Hans' voice sounded like his own, V'ras thought. In light of the situation it sounded cold and unsympathetic. But to the trained ear, it was nothing more than logical, there was no room for emotions on the battlefield. "Man your station Lieutenant," Hans ordered, "we need engineering to its most optimum."

V'ras nodded and returned to his work.

The senior NCO was already looking up the damage, "Shields are already at fifty percent," he noted towards V'ras, "We've only got a couple of minutes at this rate."

V'ras nodded, "let's divert all power from the non essential systems and route them into the shields."

His senior NCO nodded and was tapping onto his console.

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

Captain Wilcox sat in his chair. His thoughts were divided between the battle that was raging on deck six and the space battle that he was trying to manage on the bridge on the ship. He bit his lip making it bleed as the ship shook again from the impact of another volley from the Gorn vessel. "Helm, defensive pattern delta five, attempt to get us away from the debris field and into open space."

Chloe he noted had been able to keep a lot of the fire away from the ship, despite almost being pinned against the debris field. She was certainly as good a pilot as she had been sold to John as. Shrak he noted had also been able to show her professional aggression during combat, something that made her an excellent tactical officer.

Another shake of the ship exploded a console across the room, a crewman fell backwards. John watched as the crewman got back up, with blood on his face and returned to his station. "Lieutenant, you've got to get us out of this kill zone."

"I'm attempting to sir," Chloe replied calmly.

"Situation reports from deck six sir," Ensign Williams reported, he was manning the operations post as Torlik was nowhere to be found, "there is a fire fight in the corridor, but engineering is clear of hostiles, "There is damage to the engineering section, warp drive is affected."

Another shake and Shrak spoke up, "I've lost power to the weapons system sir. Shields are down to ten per cent."

Another explosion hit the bridge throwing sparks in all direction that confused John momentarily. "Chloe can you plot a course out of here?"

Lieutenant Visitor nodded and started to plot a course, "Got one, but it doesn't take us into Federation Space, it takes us deeper into Geckonian territory."

"Do it," Wilcox shouted as sparks flew again, emergency lighting had to be imitated and a beam fell from the ceiling a foot away from him.

Chloe did the command and reported they were now at warp six, all they could manage. Wilcox nodded gratefully at the young Lieutenant and commented on her excellent piloting skills.

"How long until the shields can be repaired?" Wilcox asked Shrak.

"No idea Sir," she responded, "I need to see what damage has been done, looks more damage than a simple power failure."

"Damn it," Wilcox shouted hitting the arm of his chair as he `sat back down, "Helm, is there anywhere to hide at the moment?"

"Yes sir," Lieutenant Visitor reported shouting immediately, "I've got the course to pass near a nebula, class 9 sir."

"Good job Lieutenant," John said.

"_Lieutenant Commander Hans to bridge_," the mission advisor came over the internal communications system.

"Bridge here Commander," John replied, "Report."

"_We've secured deck six and eliminated the threat. I've got three Gorn prisoners_," the Geckonian officer reported, but something was hesitant in his voice.

"Casualties?" John asked.

"_We've got four dead in engineering, plus two in a critical condition and we have another two injuries in the defence team, one minor, one major_," Hans' voice seemed even more from its usual calmness.

"Is Commander Hawke there?" John asked.

"_He was hit sir_," Hans stated, "_He is the critical casualty_. _Sir!_"


	13. Chapter 13

**Stardate 53116.5**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

John stood on the bridge watching the view screen as if he was actually willing the ship forward. Lieutenant Visitor was straining under the stress of having to keep the Gorn vessel in pursuit of them from catching up to them. The sweat on her head was evident. Her last report gave the nebula in about six minutes. Wilcox hoped that it was earlier, the Gorn vessel was closing in on them, and six minutes would seem like an eternity in that time.

It wasn't the only problem that was flowing through his head. The damage to the ship during the battle had been extensive, damage to weapons, engines and power regulations would be difficult to repair with their limited resources this far away from safety and the casualties during the battle were higher than John had originally thought. Apart from the four in engineering, one had died on the bridge and two in other places on the ship. Seven other crewmembers were in a critical condition in sickbay, including Dan.

John was particularly worried about Dan. His initial prognosis was not good and for the past few hours he had been in surgery. John could do nothing to help his friend now, guilt gathered as they had not spoken nicely to each other the last time they had a conversation off the bridge. John, like everyone else in Starfleet, knew that his job wasn't the safest in the universe, but there wasn't many in space that were particularly safe. However, like so many others as well, John had the attitude that it bad things only ever happened to other people. Dan's injury brought the reality that it could happen to anyone closer to home.

The deaths and injuries, which included four others with less serious injuries but were still off duty for the next few days, meant that John, who was suppose to have a crew of sixty five now had a crew of just forty three. Engineering was the worst affected, it was suppose to have sixteen personnel to begin with, but left with only twelve. Now they only had only five crewmembers fit for duty. To add to the worry they had a lot of work to do and it was causing them problems.

But from the battle John could take some positives from it. The marines performed brilliant, he was amazed at their professionalism and skill, something that Hans and V'ras had also commented upon the marines skills in their quick situation reports.

Hans was down in the infirmary, apparently taking on a light wound, something that he had not mentioned to John, but Doctor Burton had insisted on checking out. Ensign Torlik was also injured, he had been on deck seven near some equipment that no one knew about. Ensign had burns across his face and was spending time in the Imaging Chamber. His assistant operations officer had looked at the device and determined that Torlik was working on it when fire from the Gorn vessel caused an overload.

The ensign also seemed to think that his superior was working on something that deflected unauthorised beam ins. Something that he was not authorised to do, but might have saved the ship. John had already determined that had the Gorn been able to beam in where ever they wanted that they wouldn't have been able to fight them and that casualties would have much higher if not total. Even if Torlik had not followed protocol, he might have just saved the ship.

John wanted answers from Ensign Torlik and had asked Doctor Burton to contact him as soon as he was awake and out of the imaging chamber. John also wanted to talk to Dan and Hans, who had valuable information on how the Gorn operated, very few Starfleet personnel had dealt in a fire fight with the Gorn and any intelligence that they could provide will be invaluable in future conflict.

"Captain, we are approaching the nebula," Chloe announced from the front of the damaged bridge. The beam that lay across the centre, obscured the view of the view screen from the Captain's chair, make John stand up to look at the purple and blue soup that lay in front of the vessel.

"Analysis Williams," John shouted from the centre of the deck.

"Class nine nebula sir, one by zero point five by zero point two light years in dimensions. Highly corrosive gases in it, but the shields even in their current state should keep us safe for a while," the Ensign reported back, "Sensors can't detect anything in there from the outside and you would have to be almost on top of the object on the inside to detect anything."

"So it's a damn good hiding place then," John replied, Williams only nodded back, "Take us in Helm."

John felt the shudder as the ship passed the outer layers to rest uncomfortably on the inside of the gas monster. It wouldn't be hard for the Gorn to realise where they had disappeared, but would they attempt to find them inside of the nebula, or would they wait on the outside for them to exit their refuge. He had information sources of course, Hans and the three Gorn prisoners they had, if they were to co-operate. So far his three 'guests' were not very talkative and had refused any medical treatment.

"I've taken up a position inside the nebula sir," Chloe remarked.

"Good job Lieutenant," replied John, "Every three minutes change our position, just in case they attempt to locate us." Chloe nodded at her orders and started working on the console, as if she was planning on the next few manoeuvres. John turned to Shrak, who was at her station trying to conduct some diagnostics of the weapon systems, in an attempt to get something back on. "Lieutenant Shrak, you have the bridge, I'm going down to see what is happening in engineering and sickbay, report in every half an hour."

Shrak twisted her antennas, something that John recognised as acknowledgement. John nodded to her and left the bridge in a purposeful walk.

**USS Nightingale, Sickbay**

John arrived in sickbay a couple of minutes later. The smell of blood was the first thing that hit him full force. John had not expected that on a modern space ship, but perhaps considering the role of the ship he had, it would be something that he should expect a lot in the future.

He gave a quick glance around, the tiny noises of instruments and equipment beeping from time to time gave the impression of calmness in what was probably a very busy room. Dan was in a bio bed on his own, looking peaceful, no signs of the trauma that he apparently suffered. Hans was sitting on a bio bed with a nurse going over some thinks with him. Torlik was nowhere to be seen, presumably still in the imaging chamber. John decided to talk to Hans.

As soon as John reached him across the room the nurse left the two of them alone to talk. "You okay Commander?"

"It was nothing more than a flesh wound sir," the Geckonian replied in his trademark coldness, "I did tell the Doctor, but she insisted on seeing me."

"Doctor's prerogative," John replied, "What can you tell me about the Gorn from their tactics in this instance?"

"They are serious sir," Hans replied, "They certainly wanted to make sure that you were destroyed," he continued in a cold detached voice, "They are trying to hide their actions here, they don't want the Federation interfering with what they are doing?"

"And that is?"

"The extermination of the Geckonian people," Hans said. John couldn't believe his calmness considering he was discussing the genocide of his own people.

"They picked the perfect time to launch their invasion. Starfleet low on man power and equipment, with what little resources spread out across Federation space and as part of the Alliance Occupational Force of Cardassia," John stated, biting his lower lip, "Even if we could get word to Command, there is little we could do."

Hans shook his head, "If they were not worried of what Starfleet could do, they would not be going to such lengths to hide their actions."

John paused for moment, Hans was right, if the Gorn were not worried, they would not be trying so hard to hide the attack. It got him thinking about the Gorn fleet, and the state of it. Last John had heard, the Gorn had a large fleet of weak vessels. The one that attacked them might not have been a standard Gorn vessel, it certainly wasn't in the database. This could mean Starfleet could interfere, could do something, if he could figure a way of communication with Command.

John's thoughts and analysis of scenarios were interrupted by a beeping in the room. He leapt up in fright from his leaning position next to the Geckonian mission advisor sat next to him. Scanning the room John searched for the location, but Doctors Burton and Castello with Nurses Williams and Traelex were already there, already at the side of Dan.

"His heat beat has increased to one hundred and eighty per minute and rising," Nurse Williams screamed as she read the console out, John had no idea what all the words meant, but her voice was enough to convey it was serious. "No, no, no. Blood pressure is two ten over one fifty, he's going into a seizure."

Doctor Burton ran her hands through the hair, "Okay give him two hundred CC's of lectrazine, that should stabilise the heart," she paused for a second as a nurse administered the drug into the neck of Dan.

"No effect," Nurse Williams announced, "Heart rate is still climbing."

"Give him three hundred," Burton ordered sharply.

"Doctor that could stop his heart," Castello exclaimed.

"It will stop at this rate anyway so do as I say," screamed Burton in a panicked rush as she ran around the bed to the other side of Dan. The Trill nurse administered the dose in the same place.

Costello put his hand over Dan's mouth and nose, "he's stopped breathing."

Nurse Williams shook her head, "the heart is stopping, but it's not the drug that is doing it, we need to resuscitate him now."

Burton pushed Williams out of the way of the screen and took a look at the readings herself, John could feel the stress they were all going through from across the room.

"Nurse administer three hundred of Cortolin and prepare the cardiostimulator," one of the nurses nodded.

"The Gorn weapon blast has caused a lot of neurological damage doctor," Castello said looking at another screen which looked like it was the brain of Commander Hawke, "We might not be able to revive him."

Burton looked at the screen from behind Castello as the nurse administered another hypospray to Hawke, "Look here," Castello pointed, "the area where the brain manages basic functions has taken significant damage."

"We could try neurological repairs on it," Burton replied.

"No time," Castello quickly replied, "We have to hope there is enough there to help him operate."

"What about life support?" Burton seemed as if she was scared.

"It wouldn't more than likely make his condition worse."

"Doctor," that was Nurse Williams, "Cortolin has had no effect and we've lost his pulse"

"Prepare the stimulator," she announced grabbing the device from nurse sharply, "Clear the bed." Her crisp clear order sent everyone a couple of feet away from the bed. As she activated the device John noticed a small tear develop in one of her eyes. The body of Dan quickly jumped into the air a few centimetres before resting again on the bed.

"No effect, no pulse no heart beat," Williams announced clearly.

"Clear," Burton announced again quickly. Again everyone on the medical team stepped backwards. Dan's body levitated again as if by magic, but the glum look on Williams' face was more than enough to tell the story of what was going on.

"Clear," Burton shouted again, now tears more evident on her face. The rest of the medical team were now staring at her, disbelief written all over their faces.

"Doctor, he's gone." Castello softly said.

"I said clear, damn it," she shouted as she activated the device on Dan another time, his body rising slightly, "Come on Dan," she screamed, "Breath damn you."

Nurse Williams put her hand on Burton's shoulder, Burton now in floods of tears, the room seemed to come to a perfect silence, not even the one beeping machines made a noise.

"Doctor, he's gone, there's nothing we can do for him," Williams whispered quietly, but in the current atmosphere it was as loud as a shout.

Burton took in a deep breath and looked at the nurse. John wanted to intervene, but found himself powerless to do so. Grief had already struck him hard.

"Record the time of death please nurse," Burton said, attempting calm, but her shaky voice expressed her true feelings in the matter, "I'll be in my office." With that she walked into her office and left the deathly silence behind.

John looked around at everyone; no one was quite sure what to do; nor was he.


	14. Chapter 14

**Stardate 53116.7**

_**Captain's Log**: The death of Commander Hawke has caused an immediate effect on some of the crew. Lieutenant Commander Rachel Burton seems to have locked herself into her office and is not responding to calls. I, myself have found it difficult to think of the Commander's death. I would do anything that would bring him back. He was an excellent officer and a good friend; I wish I could have told him that before he died. But instead we were at loggerheads since the moment we stood on the ship._

_I've placed Lieutenant Commander Hans as a temporary Executive Officer. The only other option was Doctor Burton, and ignoring her current mental state, she does not have Bridge Officer training._

_End Log_./i

**Stardate 53116.7**

**USS Nightingale, Lower Engineering**

V'ras rubbed the grease and dirt that had collected on his forehead over the past few hours. The attack by the Gorn had done some serious damage to the ship in general and specifically to the engineering section. V'ras had spent the last two hours inside a jefferies tube trying to reconnect the power to the replication system and the life support on deck 7, which had to be temporarily evacuated. It was very dirty work. He had one person down there in an environmental suit working in the power distribution area, but V'ras could spare no-one else to leave engineering, he was shorthanded enough.

V'ras had a crewmember resting for four hours at a time. He had to have everyone as rested as possible, and he had no idea how long he would have to work so few people. At the moment, the only other engineering officer was off duty. V'ras struggled to find a use for Amanda Hodge, she was not the best engineer in terms of warp mechanics or energy matrices. Her specialism was medical equipment, but by a stroke of luck, the medical equipment was not affected by the attack.

"Sir," Petty Officer Paul Thatcher tried to grab his attention as he took a sip from the bottle of water that was the only supply of fluid the engineering deck had at the moment with the replicators offline. "I've realigned the dilitium intake matrix, but the journey to the nebula serious taxed the crystals themselves."

"What power do we have?" V'ras asked making a mental note of the problem.

"By my calculations we could manager warp six at best," Thatcher announced glumly.

"Then that will have to do," V'ras said, he could not understand the Petty Officer's glum outlook, the ship could have been stuck without any warp drive what so ever.

"We also have a problem that out shields can only be charged to about fifty percent," the Petty Officer stated.

"It is better than nothing crewman," replied V'ras, "Get to work on the impulse drive."

The man nodded and walked off to a station on the opposite side of the room. V'ras mentally shook his head, it was a disastrous situation to be in, made worse by a hull breach in cargo bay one, where all the spare parts were vented into space. With limited resources it seemed highly unlikely that he had the ability to get the ship fully functioning again, at least not without getting to a Starbase.

V'ras turned slightly as the door to the lower engineering deck was opened manually. V'ras stood up still, intent on knowing who was coming in. He was relieved to see it was Captain Wilcox and Lieutenant Commander Hans.

V'ras approached them, "Captain," he acknowledge the entrance of his senior officer in a typical Vulcun neutral voice, "I apologise for internal communications being down," he continued, "But I need to get deck seven operational before work can start on them."

"Understood," replied the Captain, V'ras noted that he seemed despondent and distanced from engineering, "Give me an update on the current status of the ship please Mister V'ras."

V'ras nodded and moved towards a console near the where the three officers were standing. On it was a large visual of the Nightingale.

"Decks three and seven are completely abandoned at this point," V'ras announced pointing to the obvious positions of the decks on the visual, "Deck three lost artificial gravity about one hour ago followed by a partial loss of the life support. Deck seven has lost all life support; I've got a man down there attempting to reinitiate the system."

"Engines and weapon systems?" Hans asked, his voice seemed more concerned than that of the Captain V'ras noted. Even the Captain seemed disinterest as he blankly stared at the screen of the Nightingale.

"We can manage warp six at best," V'ras noted, "Shields could get to fifty percent at best, weapons we have a major problem."

The Captain shifted his focus from the screen to V'ras. V'ras could see some sort of pain in his eyes; something had happened that the Captain was not letting on. "Where do we stand?" the Captain asked.

"Phaser banks are completely burnt out," V'ras replied, "And the firing mechanism for the only torpedo launcher was destroyed in an explosion that occurred during attempted repairs."

"We have no weapons?" Hans asked.

"None," replied V'ras, "I could rig the deflector dish in order to send out a powerful pulse, but against a Gorn vessel, it is highly improbable that it would do any damage."

"I agree Captain," Hans added, "The Gorn hull is tough; to compensate for them not having any shields, their ships can take substantial damage."

"What about using some of the spare parts we have in storage," Wilcox started to ask, "Surely we have some weapon spare parts in there?"

V'ras tapped on the computer to show a shot of the cargo with a large irregular hole in the wall. The inside of the room had multicoloured gases swirling inside of it. "The cargo bay has a hull rupture. We lost a lot of the equipment through it, some probably still remains, but with life support down, and the emergency shielding failing twenty minutes ago on deck seven. The corrosive gases from the nebula seeped inside the cargo area, there is no way to get to them, let alone know if any of the spare equipment is actually working at this point."

"Can we cannibalise any other part of the ship to get weapons working?" Hans asked.

"No, nothing else is compatible," V'ras responded.

"The imaging chamber," another voice behind the three officers announced its presence.

Hans and V'ras turned to face the newcomer to the discussion, Hans did not recognise the young ensign, but V'ras instantly nodded to Ensign Hodge.

"Ensign," Hans nodded to her, "you have something to add?"

"Yes sir," she said walking up to the console and bringing up the designs for the imaging chamber, "With a bit of ingenuity, we can convert the device that loads the patient into the chamber, into a launcher."

V'ras consciously raised an eyebrow; it had to admit it was something that he had not thought of.

"What's the catch?" Hans asked.

V'ras nodded, "The chamber wasn't designed to load patients in quick succession," V'ras replied, "We would have a limited fire rate."

"Better than nothing," Hans replied, "Captain?" Wilcox maintained his look of distance from the rest of the group. "Captain, what do you think?" Hans asked again. V'ras noted that Hans maintained the same sort of emotional detachment as Vulcans, yet somehow managed to keep emotions close to the surface, it was fascinating for him to consider the possibility.

Wilcox took his time to respond, V'ras considered asking him again, but before he could the Captain moved, "Do it." His short statement was nothing more than a continuation of his distancing from the situation. "I'll be on the bridge should you need me," the Captain stated.

"Sir," V'ras had one more concern in which he had to speak to the Captain, "I could really do with Commander Hawke," V'ras announced, "He has extensive engineering experience and I am very short handed, I was wondering when he will be released from sickbay, as well as the other three members of my crew."

"Commander Hawke is dead," Wilcox replied sharply in an angry voice, V'ras noted an emotional surge from the Captain so strong it unsettled him greatly, "Lieutenant Commander Hans will take on his responsibilities."

"Aye sir I understand," replied V'ras.

"You understand what Lieutenant?" the Captain shouted, taking V'ras completely by surprise, "We've lost a great man, a great deal of good people on this ship, and you only understand." V'ras raised an eyebrow at the rant now being thrown into his direction, "It must be great to have no emotion, not to care about the lives lost."

Before V'ras could respond to the Captain's outburst he stormed out of the room and into the corridor. Hans, who had watched the Captain leave turned back to face V'ras.

"Carry on Lieutenant," he said softly, "I'll return in a bit."

**Stardate 53116.7**

**USS Nightingale, Corridor, Deck 5**

Wilcox slammed his fists hard onto the wall outside of engineering. He hated the thought that his friend was gone. He hadn't said a nice word to him since he had come aboard and neither of them had being that friendly to each other. He regretted some of the things he said to Dan, he wished that he had some way to convey that he was a good officer. He slammed the wall again with his fists as he continued on a few more steps, his hand felt numb now and he felt the wetness of blood trickle from his fist. He had hit a control panel and the glass that was on it shattered from the force of the punch he had given the wall.

"Shall I add that to the damage report Captain?" a familiar voice asked from behind him. Hans walked up beside him, "I'm afraid that the console is considered a minor repair though," he paused for a second, "It would have to wait until we get to a Starbase before it can be repaired."

"I understand," replied Wilcox. He didn't know what the Geckonian was attempting to do, but he didn't like to play mind games.

"There is nothing you can do Captain, nothing will make the loss of Commander Hawke better," Hans said, in his voice John could hear a sense of sympathy, but could not connect with it in his mind.

"You are wrong Commander," Wilcox replied, "There is something that I can do." Wilcox noted that the Geckonian cocked his head slightly to the side, "Come with me."

**Stardate 53116.7**

**USS Nightingale, Brig**

The brig on the Saint Bernard class ship was small in comparison to other federation ships. It consisted of a single cell and a small control desk directly in front of the cell. Inside of the cell were the three Gorn prisoners. As John walked in the Marine on guard duty came to attention.

"You're dismissed private," John shouted, "Get yourself out of the room."

The Marine nodded and walked out the room, going past Hans as he entered the room. John barely noticed the Geckonian step inside the small room. John walked in front of the force field that separated the cell from rest of the room. One of the Gorn stood up from the floor that they were all sitting down on and approached the other side of the force shield.

"I am Captain John Wilcox, commander of the USS Nightingale," John said, "I trust you find your accommodation comfortable, I'm afraid that we don't have a lot of space on this class."

The Gorn sneered at the comment and turned back to go and sit with the rest of the group.

"What not in a talkative mood?" John asked, taking on a distinctively hostile tone, "I thought I would let you know your attempts at disrupting life on this ship have failed."

The Gorn sniggered a little bit, "We killed some of your crew and we damaged some of your systems. From what I can tell, we have done some significant damage." He started to cackle at his statement as did the other two prisoners. "I see you brought your Geckonian slave Captain," the Gorn paused giving a disgusted look at Hans. John would give the Geckonian credit for not flitching, "Is he to do your dirty work Captain."

"I can do that myself," replied John moving over to the control desk, he waved his hands over the console and started to play with some of the rooms systems.

"Captain?" Hans asked, his voice seemed worried.

"I know you don't like the Gorn anymore than I do at the moment Commander," John replied, "Would three really be missed?"

"This is against interstellar law Captain?"

"And attacking us wasn't!" replied John, as he slowly started to suck the atmosphere out of the holding cell, the effects of the air thinning already displaying on the Gorn faces as they started to struggle to breath, grabbing their necks. John watched all three with glee, he was going to have revenge, he was going to make the Gorn pay for the death of his friend.

"Return the life support to the cell now sir," Hans shouted.

"You don't give me orders Commander, I give them. Get out if you can't follow them." snarled John.

The Gorn were now on their knees, John felt a small glint of joy in his heart at the sight of them begging for mercy as he almost finished extracting the air.

"Captain," shouted Hans, "Stand down!"

"No," John replied turning round to see Hans aiming a phaser at him. The next thing John knew everything was black.


	15. Chapter 15

**Stardate 53117.4**

**USS Nightingale, Sickbay**

John opened his eyes slowly, surprised to find himself looking up at a bright white light. He knew about the rumours about the afterlife, but he never imagined them that they were like this, this looked more like the ceiling of a Starfleet vessel. Surely he had not chosen to spend eternity in a Starfleet vessel. He felt no disembodiment or floating that other people had stated what lay beyond this existence. He decided to test what he was seeing by reaching up to touch it. He could not; next he attempted to pinch himself.

"Ouch," he screamed. 'Good job John, you just hurt yourself'.

Realising that this was in fact reality he decided to sit up and see where he was. Adjusting his eyes from the blurring of the light from above, he realised he was in sickbay. Doctor Castello approached him smiling. "Hello Sir," he paused for a second grabbing a medical tricorder and ran the detachable probe over him, "can you tell me your name and rank please?"

"Captain John Wilcox, commander of the USS Nightingale, my date of birth is 7th March," John replied, his voice seemed bored, "I got stunned?"

"Commander Hans said it was an accident sir," Castello paused, "He shot you when you attempted to fight the Gorn that was trying to escape."

"The Gorn that was trying to escape?" John asked moving his head downwards and forward. John's memory of the whole incident was clear in his head, he knew the Gorn never attempted an escape, even when he did the unthinkable for a Starfleet captain.

"Yes, the three prisoners, they attempted an escape while you were trying to get information out of them," Castello told John, John took notes of the events that were suppose to have taken place, "they attempted an escape and you went to stop them, but Hans had already fired his phaser, hitting you first."

John thought for a moment what was going on, before it dawned on him that Lieutenant Commander Hans was covering his back. "That's exactly what happened," John felt the lie weigh heavily on his mind. His emotional state was irrational and erratic before, now that he had been unconscious for an unknown amount of time, his mind had seemed to reset itself. The death of his closest friend was still a tragedy that he felt saddened by, but the pit of anger demanding revenge no longer burnt in his stomach.

"What happened after I was hit?"

"Mr Hans reported that he stunned the other three Gorn and resumed their incarceration," the Doctor replied steadily, "And Lieutenant Commander Hans restricted himself to his quarters for shooting you."

"Why?"

"He believed that it could constitute an act of mutiny," Castello added.

The irony of the situation did not escape John, Hans was portraying himself as a mutineer, when John felt that he was the traitor to everything that he signed up for and held close to his heart.

"I need to speak to him," stated John, "Am I clear to leave sickbay?"

Castello nodded to him, "As long you pop by later sir," Castello added, "We need some help with Doctor Burton."

John stood up and picked up his tunic, now with a black phaser burn on the front of the shirt, why no-one had noticed it was not on the back, as Hans' story would indicate John did not know. "What's wrong with her?"

"She hasn't left her office since Commander Hawke," Castello didn't finish the sentence, instead looked sheepish, "We can't get through to her, it has been hours."

"Has she never lost a patient before?" John asked.

"There are rumours sir," Castello added, keeping his sheepish demeanour on him.

"What rumours?" John asked, he never really liked to get involved in idle gossip, but when it affected a crew member's performance and ship operations, he had no choice.

"There was a rumour that the Doctor and Commander Hawke were involved sir," Castello said.

"It isn't a rumour sir," that was a nurse across the room, "It's the truth, I overheard an argument between before."

"Nurse Williams," Castello composed himself slightly, "I've told you before, what you heard could mean anything."

"Let her speak Lieutenant," John said quietly. John knew that Williams and Burton had developed a strong working relationship, over the past few days John had seen the two sharing many meals together. This probably allowed Williams to gleam more information that Castello did not know was there or was not able to.

"I was coming onto shift one day, and overheard the Commanders talking sir from the corridor," she started; she looked at the Captain and contemplated what to say next, "I overheard Burton say that their relationship was over. That she wouldn't be able to cope if anything happened to him."

"Then what?"

"Then I walked in on them sir," she paused, "It was getting really bad sir, I thought it was best if I did."

John nodded; he understood what the nurse was saying. Sometimes in love rifts, an intrusion is better than the argument heating up. John pondered for a moment on what he could do, but found the noises of the beeping room disturbing his train of thoughts. "I'll be back in a bit then Doctor," John eventually said, "I think I know a way to sort this out," John paused biting his lips, he had a plan formulating in his head, but he needed something from his quarters which he thought would help. "There is something I need and I need to see Commander Hans first."

Castello nodded before John walked out of the room.

**Stardate 53117.4**

**USS Nightingale, Deck 2, Lieutenant Commander Han's Quarters**

Hans sat on his tree bark contemplating the last few days. The dark room made it easier for him to concentrate. It was only a week ago that he had been doing fleet manoeuvres for the third fleet, organising the two new defiant class vessels assigned to the fleet into local patrols. His post as Strategic Operations Officer was one in which he found boring. Even though he knew Starfleet entailed a lot of paperwork, the amount he had to fill in as Strategic Operations Officer was ludicrous. Hans thought of this assignment as a way to stretch his legs and get off the routine of station life. Now it seemed that his career was over.

Hans thought for a second, he was only twenty four and had a long life in front of him, maybe another three hundred years if he was lucky. Yet for a moment, Hans could not think of what he could do for that time. He had devoted so much time and energy to his Starfleet career over the past twelve years since he graduated; it was hard to think about adjusting to another way of life.

He could return to his life on Geckonia. He had on several occasions as part of rituals that he would feel obliged to partake in, however he found the experiences very uncomfortable. Like some of the other Geckonians who had joined Starfleet, their own brother and sisters on the homeworld did not consider them part of the Geckonian family. It was a sad moment for some of them, who was completely cut off. Hans on the other hand had an advantage. He was a war hero and despite joining Starfleet and distancing himself from the time he in the Geckonian military, he still served as a political weapon from time to time.

Hans felt his skin start to itch on the bark as his body rubbed against the rough surface. It was nearly the time that he would have to shed his outer layer. A biological process he hated. It normally meant that he had to spend a day alone in his quarters, soaking himself in a misty shower in order to make the process quickly. At least this time he was unlikely to have to rearrange his duty shifts to make the process more private.

Hans stretched on the log for a second, feeling his old skin start to winkle and the new one toughen underneath. He closed his eyes and continued to think of things he could possible do once the Captain had dismissed him from the service.

Hans was not expecting that the door would chime. Hans ordered that computer lowered the temperature by ten degrees, sufficient enough not kill the person knocking on the door but not too much to ensure he didn't require his heat suit. "Enter," he said in a crisp voice.

Hans looked at the door as Captain Wilcox entered. The light from the outside of his quarters stung his eyes. It was the last person that Hans had expected to see in his room.

"This room is hot," Wilcox said in a off remark.

"This room is cold to me sir," Hans replied, "I reduced the temperature by ten degrees before you entered. Otherwise it would be too hot for you." Hans gave a slight smile, though it had been commented that the Geckonian natural face had an upturned face giving an impression that they were always smiling.

"It's interesting to see a log in a Starfleet Officer's quarters," Wilcox continued, trying to fake a reassuring smile. Hans could tell that the Captain was not exactly comfortable, "Is that what you sleep on?"

"My species sleep on logs, rocks or in sand pits, depending on what we like," Hans replied. He knew the Captain wanted more than trivial knowledge of his species and although he hated small talk himself, the Captain seemed to be relaxing more with the little chit chat.

"A little dark in here isn't it?" Wilcox said.

Hans barely noticed the lights not being on. Being a subterranean species, the Geckonians rarely saw sunlight and so were accustomed to the dark. Humans on the other hand, Hans remembered, had little visual ability in such conditions.

"We live in dark caves on my home world Captain, my eyes are adjusted to these light levels," he paused for a second, "while on duty I wear a pair of contact lenses to protect my eyes."

The Captain sighed, he seemed uncomfortably pensive.

"Is there something I can do for you Captain?" Hans came out and asked, feeling that the silence could go on no longer.

"We have a problem Commander," John said, "I was wrong in what I attempted to do." Hans nodded in agreement, but did not want to interrupt him completely. "You did good in stopping me, however I would prefer if next time you would use a lower setting of stun."

"Is there going to be a next time?" Hans could not help asking at the end of the Captain's inappropriate use of bad humour.

"I'm not a saint Commander, I do make mistakes, just like everyone else," Wilcox responded.

"I meant for me sir," Hans replied quietly, "Are you not reporting me for insubordination?"

"That would mean the end of your career," John replied, "And mine." John emphasised the last part, Hans wondered why, was the Captain's career just as important to him as his was to himself, "I'm ashamed at what I tried to do, but according to Doctor Castello, I was accidently shot during a prisoner escape attempt."

"I thought it was best if I kept the events secret for the time being," Hans replied lowering himself from the log, his feet touching the smooth, soft carpet that wasn't able to be removed before they left Starbase. His feet itched at the feeling of it.

"You lied," John said in amazement, "I thought Geckonians didn't lie."

"I didn't lie," Hans responded softly, he carefully chose his words, "I misled and allowed them to come to their own conclusions." Hans paused and raised an eyebrow, "I don't believe I once mentioned the world prisoner escape."

John nodded, "I see."

Hans walked over and grabbed a glass of water from the table; he passed it over to the Captain and tried for another broad smile. He was impressed that the Captain had enough visual ability to see the glass enough to get a hold of it. "This ship needs a good captain, and that is you sir. You were not your usual self. I will not hold it against you." Hans paused for a second, he had known the Captain for such a limited time, yet he already thought he knew the person standing in front of him.

"This ship also needs a good executive officer," John replied, handing back the glass of water back to Hans after he had taking a few sips. Hans felt the coldness of the water on hands and instinctually put the glass down quickly.

"I agree," replied Hans.

"I think you would make a great first officer," John continued.

"Sir?" Hans, felt a little embarrassed, he had never considered that he would make it to such a high position in Starfleet. He felt a person from a species outside of the Federation would not be allowed to rise to such a rank that would be put into a position of conflict.

"What you did in the brig, standing up to me when I was wrong," John paused, "Despite the fact you shot me, was exactly what a good first officer needs to do. Give me other options, remind me of my place in the universe, but is yet good enough to know their own limits and does not undermine me."

Hans nodded his head slightly, "Thank you for your kind words Captain."

"Commander Hawke was a good officer and he was a good friend, but he was never going to be a good first officer," John paused, he looked glum, Hans assumed he was betraying his old friend, but it was never a mistake to be honest. "He didn't know when to support me in public and give me his thoughts in private. He was a typical engineer, not a command officer."

"He was a good man," Hans said compassionately, "He was a credit to the uniform."

"And that is how he will be remembered by us," John replied.

"What do we say about the incident in the brig?" Hans asked.

"We can't ignore it," Wilcox replied, his sombre voice displaying that he did in fact feel ashamed at what occurred, "But I think it would be best if the events never left this room."

"What if the Gorn make accusations?" Hans hadn't thought of this possibility when he first misled his fellow officers, but it now seemed like the most likely thing that would occur.

"We'll deal with that if and when it comes about," John said smiling, "Are we in agreement Commander?"

Hans nodded.

John took on a serious look, "There is just one question I do have Hans," John said. Hans felt his stomach churn, "I know what you did give indications, but I need to know where your loyalties lie Commander; with Starfleet or Geckonia?"

Hans paused for a moment. He had never really considering the question before. He had never been in a position where the two had come into conflict. Sure there had been times when Geckonians may have done something different than what Starfleet had ordered. But at the end of the day, Hans had joined Starfleet, like the rest of the Geckonians had done, in a first step for Geckonia to join the Federation. Hans considered that he was therefore a person that had loyalties to both.

"Sir," Hans began, "With all due respect, I joined Starfleet in order to allow my people to see we can become part of the Federation." Hans paused for a second and leant against the log in his room, he thought about the six Geckonians who had given their lives for the Federation during the Dominion War, despite the Geckonian government not giving any military assistance to the Federation, they all committed one hundred percent. "I guess you could say, that I am loyal to both. But as I want my people to join the Federation, I cannot go against the Federation wishes."

Hans noticed that the Captain smiled and gave a reassuring nod. "Shall we get to work then Commander?" John smiled.

"Yes sir," replied Hans, a broader smile developing on his face, "But if you don't mind sir, I would need to get dressed."

Wilcox briefly stopped for a moment; Hans could see the cogs in his head working, "Are you naked Commander?"

"Yes Sir, I am."

"I'll wait outside," replied Wilcox, now seemingly very uncomfortable. Humans were so prude in such matters.


	16. Chapter 16

**Stardate 53117.5**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

Lieutenant Shrak sat in the Captain's chair looking at the view screen in front of her. The soup of purples and blues mixed randomly on the view screen in a very pleasing pattern that she found very satisfying. It calmed her from the torment of her surroundings. Here she was on a ship of doom. The Executive Officer had been killed, as had seven others. All people, all those with names, families, loved ones and friends. They had all died on this worthless pile of crap; on a mission that could only be described as foolhardy at best. The Brave had disappeared too long ago in an area that was rife, under suspicious circumstances that Command should have known the circumstances. If she had been the admiral, she would have sent in a whole task force, found the culprits and blown them all to their version of Sha Ka Ree.

But she was not an admiral, she was not even a Captain. In reality she was a Lieutenant Junior Grade with limited influence beyond her own department except the occasional turn as watch officer. And she couldn't have been a good officer having been assigned to this vessel. A vessel so pathetic, that it could only be described by a term so rude on Andoria that it would too impolite to even think of it.

Yet, despite the limited offensive capabilities of the Nightingale, the little ship had its baptism of fire. And Shrak loved every minute of it. Sure she was sad at the loss of life, but she was a tactical officer, a warrior from a warrior people and she felt the aggressive urges pulsate through her noble blue blood.

Shrak wondered, if either of her parents felt the same urges. The last time she spoke to them some eight weeks ago, after learning of her assignment to the USS Nightingale, they were both preparing to invade Cardassia. She resented not having been given the chance to participate. But as her father noted, the invasion would take place in a couple of days and it would take about thirteen days to get there at high warp from Andoria. Instead a trip of one day to Earth to her new assignment was the more logical option, if not the correct one personally. As it turned out, only one of her parents would return alive. She gritted her teeth at the memory of her hearing the news of her mother's death, killed during the destruction of the excelsior class USS Titan.

Shrak stood up from the command chair and walked to the front of the bridge. At the helm was the young Lieutenant Visitor. The two of them had become well acquainted during the voyage so far. Like all but the commanding officer and executive officer, crew shared quarters, just like on Defiant class vessels. Shrak's shared quarters with Chloe meant the two had talked to each other in great detail. Shrak knew the young Lieutenant was a dedicated officer, like herself but instead of resenting this assignment, was proud of it.

It was not difficult to see why Chloe was proud of her position, for a young helmsman there were few Starships that needed helmsman. A pilot was lucky to get assigned to one; they were more likely to get shuttles to pilot on standard transport runs, as Chloe had started her career just four months previously. Shrak was also impressed by the skills of the young pilot. She had heard about how she used a shuttle to destroy a Jem'Hadar vessel against all odds, but she had now witnessed the young Lieutenant's skill when she miraculously directed the ship away from the debris field and past the Gorn vessel, without so much as breaking a sweat. It was very impressive.

Shrak had to admit to herself, she felt something more towards the young Lieutenant other than professional admiration; something on a much more personal level. As she looked at the young officer she admired her youthful looks.

Quickly she flinched at what she was thinking. She was a Starfleet officer, not some impulsive teenager looking to get her end away. Although, she had always found the pink skin of humans interesting, perhaps allowing herself the satisfaction of one indulgence would be enough to make this dull assignment a little better. Shrak found herself standing next the young Lieutenant as she was sat at the helm control typing in course corrections as the Captain had demanded to make sure no one would get a fix on their position.

"You're doing exceptionally well Lieutenant," Shrak commented.

"Thank you Lieutenant," Chloe replied smiling a little, barely looking up from the console as she shunted the ship into another position, this one rumbling the ship a little bit.

"And your piloting during the battle was above any expectation I had of a young pilot," Shrak felt a fake in this role as a complimentary senior officer. She was more often the one to rub people up the wrong way, the person who was aggressive, the one no-one liked.

"Well this ship is more manoeuvrable than most," Visitor replied smiling.

"Don't be so modest Lieutenant," Shrak said running a finger over the shoulder of the Lieutenant. The feel of her shoulder felt teasingly good. "Learn to accept that you have ability and take some pride in it."

Chloe noticed the finger run across the shoulder and didn't respond until after Shrak had slowly removed it. "I'll try to remember that in the future Lieutenant," she blushed slightly and went straight back to her work.

Shrak walked back to the command chair and smiled, the young Lieutenant knew that Chloe was in fact a target that she could have and the satisfaction would well worth the hard work. Shrak planned her next move, she wanted some satisfaction quickly, but didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl, after all she wouldn't know what would hit her when she finally went in for the kill.

"Captain on deck," shouted a crewman shouted from behind her. Shrak quickly turned around and noticed that Captain Wilcox and Lieutenant Commander Hans were both back on the bridge.

"Stand easy everyone," Wilcox said, "Lieutenant Shrak, give me an update."

Shrak had to quickly switch personalities. "We've been moving every couple of minutes as you instructed in order to stop anyone getting a lock on our position," Shrak paused, "So far we haven't heard anything of the Gorn, they might not be out there."

"They're out there Lieutenant," Hans replied, "Sir with all due respect there is no other place for us to hide and it was open space after the nebula, we would be detectable if we had continued."

"So despite hiding here, the Gorn know exactly where we are," Wilcox continued.

To Shrak it was an obvious statement, and one that showed the poor position they were in. The Gorn would know where they were and yet they went in here to hide.

"Lucky for us this nebula is huge," Wilcox replied.

"And the nebula will affect their shields and scanners, just as it has," Shrak added, "But still sir," she continued, trying for as stern a voice as she could, "We are trapped like Angolian fish in a barrel."

"Well at least we are a very small fish in a very large barrel," replied Wilcox giving a smile.

Shrak raised her eyebrows in a disapproval of the Captain's statement. It didn't mind how big the nebula was, or how little the ship was; they were trapped and all the Gorn needed to do was to wait them out. She had estimated that at their current rate, they had about six days before they would need to attempt a break out. Otherwise they would run out of rations and water.

"Commander Hans, you have the bridge," Wilcox stated, giving the Geckonian a nod. Shrak thought about the prospect of having the Geckonian take a watch, he had yet to do so.

"Yes sir," replied the Geckonian, "May I ask where you will be?"

"Back in sickbay," John said, "I've got something to take care of down there," he said. Shrak wondered what he could be referring to, but chose not to question it. If he wanted the bridge crew to know he would have come out with what exactly he was doing. "But first I need something from my quarters."

"Captain," that was Lieutenant Visitor, Shrak noticed, "Can I have a word with you please sir?" she asked meekly. Shrak noticed that she seemed very timid in front of the Captain, despite her obvious skill, she still had that Academy grime on her, that meant all officers should be spoken to as if they were gods. Shrak would have to work on that.

Shrak approached her security suite on the bridge as Lieutenant Visitor and Captain Wilcox entered his office. Hans took up a position standing in front of the command chair. His hands poised behind his back in a grip. She noted every gesture of the lizard, the officer that was not the executive officer.

**Stardate 53117.5**

**USS Nightingale, Captain's Office**

Wilcox sat behind his desk as quickly as he could from walking in off the bridge. Lieutenant Visitor wanted to speak to him for a moment, and it was his job to listen. He couldn't have another officer go off the handles. John felt a sharp stab of pain in his stomach, guilt over his actions earlier. But they were behind him now, he was a man who had been brought back from the edge of an abyss and he was going to make sure that he never went there again. He was going to be a good Commander.

"I'm a little worried about our speed sir," Lieutenant Visitor stated as soon as the door had fully slid shut, "According to my calculations, the Federation border is three days and seventeen and a quarter hours away sir. At warp six."

Wilcox mulled over the news for a second, biting his lip, he wasn't expecting this conversation, though perhaps he should have been thinking about it. At least one of his officers was on the ball.

"I take it you've calculated it to the nearest Starbase as well?" Wilcox asked, knowing that the young officer had probably thought of several scenarios and with each one a corresponding time.

"Yes sir, it would take us six and a half days," she paused for a second, "The USS Hood is actually closer, but that is still four days and fifteen and a half hours away."

Wilcox raised his eyebrows, "And that's assuming that they are where they are supposed to be Lieutenant." Which, Wilcox contemplated, depended on whether that Command had actually noticed the Nightingale go missing, whether the Gorn had not attacked the Hood and another dozen or so situations that could put the USS Hood anywhere from where it is suppose to be to roughly fourteen light years away. That was not a good thought.

"I know sir," she paused for a second, "There is another suggestion I have sir."

Wilcox lent back in his chair, admiring the young officer, who during the time he had wasted, she had been doing calculations on how to get them out of this mess.

"Go ahead Lieutenant," Wilcox smiled.

"Geckonia sir," she paused slightly, "If we set a course for Geckonia, at warp six, it would take us only two days and eight hours." Her eyes looked intent on the idea and John felt the eagerness and the naivety of youth flow through her. Despite the fact that both the Geckonia and the Nightingale had been attacked by the Gorn, there was no way of knowing if the Geckonian military would allow them to get close, and the Nightingale couldn't take on any more damage. There was also the small matter of the Gorn fleet, where were they. For all John knew, the Gorn had already surrounded the planet and were beginning the ground offensive, which would make Geckonia the worst place to go.

John gave a brief smile, he wouldn't tell the young officer this, but he would commend her to Starfleet for her ingenuity. She was after all the only officer that seemed to have done anything positive during the last few hours. "Thank you Lieutenant," Wilcox said, "I will keep that under advisement, please resume your post." Wilcox used his remote control underneath the desk to open the door, giving Lieutenant Visitor a reassuring smile. She nodded politely, as was expected and walked back out on to the bridge.

**Stardate 53117.6**

**Gorn Imperial Cruiser Vor, Bridge**

General Slov stood like a stick had been stapled to his back and fixed to the floor. The lack of chairs on a Gorn ship gave most in the Gorn military an added incentive to complete their work quickly. Their reptilian form gave them many advantages, but stamina was certainly not one. Slov knew that he could cope with the long hours standing and he expected nothing less from his crew. As his former mentor once told him, [i]the strongest survive, the weaker die[/i]. Little did his mentor know that he was foreseeing his own fate and it would be Slov who would administer the killer blow. Slov remembered the taste of blood that day on his lips and the feeling of triumph.

Now, twenty years later he was under the same pressure as his former mentor. But instead of an entire army holding up his plans, it was one little ship. The human cowards had hidden inside a nebula and Slov needed to make sure they didn't escape. If they did, they could inform Starfleet about his actions against the Brave and them. That would get a response, probably an assault fleet, he would have to retreat and then his own death would be assured, if not from a member of his crew, then by an enemy at home.

"Scans are still negative," a warrior shouted across the bridge, "Perhaps they suffered more damage than we thought." The assumption was obvious, the Nightingale was destroyed.

Slov instinctively knew it would be too good to be true. A Starfleet vessel would carry dozens of engineers, each one a magician who could turn rocks into replicators. "No," Slov replied, "They are in there, hiding like scared dogs." Slov paused, his mind rattled with scenarios, possibilities, outcomes and actions. "Prepare a barrage of magnetometric guided charges," Slov stated, "If we can't use sensors, we'll just have to try something else."


	17. Chapter 17

**Stardate 53120.1**

**USS Nightingale, Chief Medical Officer's Office **

Rachel sat in her chair staring at the blank bulkhead. Its dark grey colour was faded into a wash of miss match patterns as tears practically blinded her. She had no idea how long she had been sat in her quarters, motionless. She was sure it was hours, it might even have been longer. '_Time will heal all wounds', _she could hear her grandmother say in her ear. But it was a lie. Time does not heal wounds, time may make the feelings loosen, may even make the mind forget. But she knew deep down that time did not heal any wounds.

She remembered the first time that she met Dan, sitting across the table from her on the Starship Soval. Both she and the commander were being assigned to their first department head positions. During their four years on the ship, a friendship that was driven by professional collaboration turned into a whirlwind romance. It was during an unavoidable refit that Rachel had been at Starfleet Medical, shielding herself from the falling debris caused by the devastating Breen attack.

In the hours that followed the attack she had her work, and the hope that Dan was still alive that kept her going. Now she knew, Dan was dead and she could do nothing to stop it.

Another tear stung her left eye and painfully dripped down her cheek onto the desk in front of her. Closing her eyes for a second, she could see his smiling face behind them, painfully watching her. Rachel knew she had work to do, she had a team of people depending on her. But so had Dan and she had let him down.

The first chirp of the door, she ignored out right. The second chirp she shouted out for the person, whoever they were, to go away; her strained voice showed the stress of her depressed state. There was no third chirp of the door; instead she heard the door open up, with the Captain stood in the doorway.

"Captain," Rachel said, wiping a tear from her eye, "I believe this is my office sir, you shouldn't come in here without my permission."

Captain Wilcox fully entered the room, allowing for the door to close behind him. Throwing down a padd onto the desk in front of Rachel, he gave her a look that made her want to cry some more, but she tried to hold it together. "I think you'll find this is my ship," the Captain replied, "I will go where I want if I think it is necessary." The stern look in his eyes, reminded her of her father when she was being told off. "You should have told me when I first offered you the post," he continued.

"Informed you sir?"

"About your engagement to Commander Walker," Wilcox continued.

"We weren't engaged when we were both assigned to your ship," Rachel stated, "I broke it off just after the Breen entered the war." She paused, remembering the letter she sent to him a couple of days after the attacks.

"Why did you break it off?" the Captain asked her, his voice now changed to that like her father's when he was trying to soothe her. Her head ached from the change in tone.

"I was scared," she replied meekly, losing that vital composure in front of the captain for a second. She gulped down some of the build up of the saliva and regained her feigned professional stance, "I was scared I was going to lose him," she continued, "In combat, during a silly rescue mission, from an accident in engineering."

The Captain went round the desk and perched himself on her desk, facing her. "People die in Starfleet," he added bluntly, "That is the nature of the service. We are after all the Federation's defence force."

She nodded, she knew it was all true, but she had never thought she would lose someone so close to her, someone she loved. "How did you find out about our engagement," she asked, another tear forming in the corner of her eye, blurring more of the room around her.

"In letters that Dan sent me," the Captain added in a bland voice, "While I was other assignments."

"He said he wouldn't tell anyone," Rachel said.

"Oh he didn't mention you by name," Wilcox replied with a smile on his face, "The one thing that Dan was good at was giving hints but not revealing everything until he was ready to."

Rachel remembered that about Dan. He had once planned a big meal to celebrate some anniversary or birthday and spent an enormous amount of energy into goading her that he had forgotten the event. She remembered being angry with him, but at the same time, so in love. For the first time in a while, she smiled. To her surprise, the Captain smiled back at her.

"You've got to hold on to those happy memories Doctor," he said softly, "Just after his passing I wanted to do silly things," he paused for a second, taking in a deep breath. Rachel noticed that something was obviously troubling him deep down, something that he was not going to reveal, at least not to her. "But the truth is, the best way we can remember him is by the times that we had that were good and by getting on with the work that he loved so much."

Rachel nodded, what the Captain said made sense, and his admission that he felt the pain of his loss made it seem more manageable. "What's on the padd?" she asked as she wiped her face from the tears.

"They are letters from Dan," the Captain replied, "Some of them mention you in some detail," he paused again to smile at her. "When I was sad at the passing of my Granddad, I read every letter he sent me. It was as if I was able to say goodbye to him."

Rachel nodded, she was about to say something when a chirp came from her office door. The Captain immediately answered it by allowing the person on the other side to enter her small office.

"Sorry to disturb you sir," Doctor Castello said, "But the bridge have sent someone down Captain," he paused for a second; Rachel noted the attention he was giving her, probably making judgement at what she was doing. "They say they need you up there sir," Castello finished in his professionally posh voice.

"Tell them I will be there in a minute," the Captain replied. Castello nodded and walked out of the room, having the door shut following his exit. After that, Rachel felt the attention was fully on her again, "Read some letters, get yourself cleaned up and then I want you to report to your station Doctor."

Rachel felt a little better from the conversation and replied in the only way that was appropriate for such an order. "Yes sir."

**Stardate 53120.2**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge **

Hans stood at ease behind the desk of the chief science officer, Paul Williams. "How many?" he enquired. A few moments ago the short range sensors, the only ones actually working, had picked up some feint signals very close to the ship. Williams had spent the last few minutes trying to work out what they were, but Hans thought that the man was way out of his depth as a chief science officer. Hans had seen it many times with smaller ships in Starfleet. It wasn't the young man's fault. A few years ago, he would have been given a low priority role on a larger ship, with a more experienced science officer being assigned to the Nightingale.

But the Nightingale was not a science vessel. It had good sensors, some of the best in the fleet, but it was built for one, specific reason - search and rescue. There was going to be no missions on this ship that would require it to study gaseous anomalies or bend the fabric of space in some wacked out experiment. Their missions would be purposeful, productive and honourable; or so Hans thought. The first mission of the USS Nightingale was hardly any of those things. Hans contemplated for a second as he read sensor telemetry on the state of the mission. Eight crewmembers dead, others serious injured; weapons off line and several other systems compromised. And they were no closer to finding the Brave and more likely to be added to the missing list. It would take quick thinking by the command staff, which he was now part of, to get them out of this mess.

"Ensign," Hans stated, "Please, complete your analysis in a quick and accurate manner, the Captain will wanting our report when he arrives on the bridge."

To his credit, the young science officer did not seem to get flustered by the continued pressure that Hans was piling on him. In fact Hans was admiring the effort and resourcefulness he was adding to investigation. "Yes sir," Paul replied.

Hans moved to the centre of the bridge, "Lieutenant Visitor," he announced, the young girl at the helm turned her head in response, "please be prepared to move the ship. The Gorn may have entered the nebula and found us." She nodded in response and began to work the console like she was playing an instrument.

Hans walked around the room; he had personally attempted to get more control on the room. Before hand the bridge had seemed like a mess. The senior officers were not complying to regulations, there was little structure and to Hans it had seemed like a load of first year cadets had been let loose on the Bridge. Some of the people on the ship were suppose to be seasoned veterans. Shrak should have been taking command while he and the Captain were trying to sort out the rest of the ship and not having a social with the helmsman. They weren't exactly given the harder tasks. V'ras and the engineering crew had a tough assignment, Doctor Burton and her medical team were under undue stress and even the security teams had more work than usual with limited staff numbers. But all his hard work over the last couple of hours was starting to pay off. The bridge was beginning to look right again.

**Stardate 53120.2**

**USS Nightingale, Turbo lift 1**

John felt the up motion of the turbo lift. It turned his stomach as it lurched its way from deck 6 to deck one, on the bridge. He had just been informed his presence was requested on the bridge, but for what he did not know. He had taken the opportunity to get an update on his injured chief of operations. Torlik was still unconscious, not having come around since his time in the imagery chamber, which repaired most of his plasma burns. However, Doctor Castello had reported that he had taken a knock to the head, which seemed more serious than they had originally thought. They had done all they could for him - but he was expected to make a full recovery.

An engineering report had promptly arrived in sickbay as he was about to leave and he quickly read it before entering the turbo lift. Essentially, despite his Vulcan chief engineer giving as good as he could, there was little improvement. Warp eight was the best that they could manage and they had only fifty five per cent shield capacity. The imagery chamber had served its purpose and was now part of the starboard torpedo launcher. Though the re-fire rate was painfully slow and John thought it was practically useless, it at least allowed them to fire back should the need arise. And it was a sure bet that they would certainly be met by at least one Gorn vessel, if not a couple by now.

He at least knew now what had happened to the Brave. The commander of the Gorn vessel, Slov, had admitted to attacking the Brave. However he had not admitted to the destruction of the vessel. And the debris field did not contain any large hull fragments from a Federation vessel, though they didn't have enough time to see if there was any small part of the Brave in the debris field. There was still a chance that the Brave was somewhere, intact, maybe damaged, but still functioning with crew to save.

**Stardate 53120.2**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge **

John walked onto the bridge of the Nightingale and was amazed at the difference that he saw. When he left the bridge last, he thought of it as a broken area of the ship, in terms of personnel and in equipment. Now it seemed as if the personnel had changed, into being a professional force. Hans was in the centre of the bridge, he seemed to orchestrating the whole bridge like a conductor in a band. John smiled to himself for a moment; Hans seemed to be a good command officer.

"Report Commander," John bellowed at the top of his voice, walking towards the centre of the bridge. He noticed how a couple of the other officers, Shrak and Williams, stood to attention. Lieutenant Visitor sat up more rigidly; she could hardly stand to attention as she was sitting down at the helm.

"Captain," Hans responded confidently, "We've picked up several small objects that are slowly closing in on our position."

John postulated for a moment. Several smaller objects would be unlikely to be Gorn. "Speculation Commander?" John asked; his mind frustratingly full of possibilities. He needed someone else's opinion before he made up his mind on what to do.

"It is unlikely to be Gorn," Hans replied, "It is not within their normal operating procedures and they have the capability to find us from outside the nebula. "Perhaps they are Geckonian," he continued.

"Captain," Ensign Williams shouted from across the bridge seeming pleased with himself, "I think that I have identified the objects."

John moved himself over to the science station where the eager Ensign was smiling from ear to ear. "What have you got Ensign," he asked positively.

"The hull of the objects, they are a Duranium alloy, with a Neosorium component signature," Williams smiled and looked at John. John felt like he should know what all this meant but he had no clue.

"What does that tell us Ensign," Hans replied, being blunt.

"Neosorium sir," Williams replied turning to face the Commander briefly settling back on the Captain. Suddenly it dawned on John what the significance of the find was.

"Only Federation ships have Neosorium," he added, "we use it in hull and equipment." John looked at the readings, "Could they be hull fragments from the USS Brave?" John suddenly felt a rush of excitement; he might be able to complete his original mission. Even finding the resting place of the Brave would be something. It would allow closure for the families for those on board.

"No sir," replied Williams, "They have active power signatures," Williams continued, his smile gaining space on his face, "The objects are escape pods, twelve of them."

John almost fell backwards with the news. He had no idea that it was possible that he would eventually find anything of the Brave, let alone the possibility for him to find survivors. He looked at Hans, "Begin rescue operations immediately Commander."

Hans nodded back to him and walked off the bridge. John sat in his command chair looking at the view screen. He couldn't help but smile to himself.


	18. Chapter 18

**Stardate 53121.5**

**USS Nightingale, Captain's ready room**

Wilcox sat at his desk looking at the computer. Hans had completed eight hours of rescue operations and his initial report had been filed with the Captain just an hour ago. Hans had been thorough in his report, that Wilcox was still reading an hour later. The rescue had been hampered by the transporters and the internal communications still being offline. However in eight hours all twelve of the Brave's escape pods had been brought onboard. Hans had listed every crewmember that was rescued with a mini report on each one of them. Wilcox scanned the list, thirty two survivors had so far been found. It was better than nothing, and some of those people could help with the ship now. Wilcox had asked for their most senior officer to come to see him in his ready room as soon as he was released from sickbay. Lieutenant Commander Hans would also join them.

According to the report from Hans, only nine of the people who were rescued were actually fit for duty. Luckily for John, six were engineers, two operations and a helmsman. He could finally give some of his crew a little rest and hopefully repair as much as the ship as they could quicker.

John started to read the biography of the most senior member of their crew to be rescued. Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Regluan, an Arkarian who served as the Brave's assistant engineering officer. He had an illustrious career, which first began on the Brave as a junior engineering officer nearly two years ago. During the week of the Dominion Wars the Brave was involved in a skirmish with a Breen warship. The Brave took significant casualties in the Engineering section and the engineering officer and his assistant were both killed. There was a note of commendation on his record; he had stopped a warp core breach from occurring. After the battle, the Brave underwent a refit for two weeks. During that time Regluan was promoted to Lieutenant (Junior Grade) and placed as the assistant engineer.

John thought that it was his experience that denied him the role of the chief engineer, which he thought was a shame. He could very likely run an engineering deck and be good at it. John knew that there were ships out there that needed his skills and ability. Yet due to a technicality, he was denied the pleasure. But despite his skills, John had a nagging feeling that Command were looking after him when denying him the position. But he wasn't sure how.

When the door chime went he told the person to enter. John noticed how Hans now walked in followed by a person who resembled the Arkarian on the profile he had just been reading about. The forehead ridges looked fearsome and his nose looked impressively big as the man stood at attention in front of his desk.

"Stand at ease," he told the junior lieutenant in front of him. Hans walked round the desk to stand behind the Captain in his chair. John noted the gesture, a sign that he and the executive officer were united. "I've been informed that you were the most senior officer from the Brave to be rescued thus far," Wilcox said, his voice calm and collective, "I'm sorry for the loss of the Brave."

"Me too sir," the Arkarian replied, however John could not sense any sense of remorse in his voice, "I'm afraid that you will not find any more survivors sir," he continued, again his voice remained as if he was angry at the Captain. John tried not to take offence; he had met an Arkarian before and had experienced an aggressive nature from her as well.

"Why do you say that?" Wilcox asked.

"I was the last one out alive," Arkarian waivered a little, lowering his head as he spoke, "The bridge was completely destroyed and most of the top nine decks were exposed to space." Arkarian composed himself. "With our weapons gone and the ship half left to space, I gave the order to evacuate. I grabbed every crewmember I could, scanned for further life signs and then evacuated myself."

Wilcox sat back in his chair and gave a quick glance towards Hans. "That is a shame," Wilcox said, unlike the other two officers he couldn't hide his sadness about the loss of life. "For what it is worth Lieutenant, you performed admirably considering the circumstances," Wilcox added.

"Thank you sir," the man replied.

Wilcox looked at Hans and gave him a gentle nod of the head. Hans looked at the junior officer, "What happened before the evacuation?"

**Stardate 53088.7**

**USS Brave, Bridge**

Regluan ran his figures over the control panel, he had been running a diagnostic on the power regulation equipment around the bridge. He rarely spent time on the bridge, and barely spent time above deck 5. Regluan was not the most social of Starfleet; he didn't often spend time in the mess hall with his fellow crewmates, preferring to eat in his quarters. The routine on the bridge seemed very relaxed as compared to the constant bustle that seemed to fill engineering.

Regluan imagined for a second what it would be like to be a command officer. He briefly watched his Vulcan commanding officer sipping a herbal tea in his chair. It seemed like a relaxed way to serve. However Regluan considered that his controlled nature was nothing more than Vulcan psychology.

His console beeped in front of him, there was an outside signal coming in. "We're picking up a distress signal Captain," he announced.

The Captain stood up, "Location, who is it from?" he asked in his commanding voice.

"A Geckonian military vessel sir," their tactical officer, a slightly overweight Bolian announced, "Well inside Geckonian space."

The tactical officer pressed a button on the console and voice came on over the signal, "i_This is the Geckonian Military Patrol four five six seven, we are under attack by a fleet of Gorn vessels and are heavily outnumbered, we request any assistance that is available from all military units in the area. I say again this is the Geckonian.../i"_

The voice on the transmission seemed calm, much like Regluan imagined he would be in such a position. He knew from experience that he could control his nerves during combat, but he never really analysed his behaviour during the battle. He had hoped he had proven that he was a capable soldier.

The captain seemed to muse for a second; Regluan considered whether or not the Captain would go. But Starfleet regulations stated that he would respond to the distress signal no matter what.

"Set a course helm, maximum warp," the Captain ordered, he turned to face Regluan, "Get yourself down to engineering and make sure they know we are going into battle," the captain told him, his composure marvellously staying calm.

Regluan nodded his head and left the bridge, his short stint on the bridge coming to an abrupt end. It would be weeks before he would have the chance to get back onto the bridge, his schedule was fully booked.

**Stardate 53121.5**

**USS Nightingale, Captain's ready room**

Captain Wilcox leaned forward onto his desk, "what happened when you got to the source of the distress signal?" he asked. He knew about the end result, but what had gotten them there was still a mystery.

"We arrived in the midst of a major battle," Regluan continued, "There were at least a dozen Geckonian ships already destroyed, with a couple more dozen still engaged in the battle. There were nearly fifty Gorn vessels."

"The Gorn certainly meant business from the off then," Wilcox commented looking at Hans, who seemed move by what he had heard. John gave him a moment of thought, the man was hearing that his people were being killed by the hundreds and he could do nothing but stand and listen to this story.

"We hung in the battle for as long as possible," Regluan stated, "We were taking massive fire by the end of the battle and we started a fighting retreat, we were attempting to reach this nebula, but just as we were about to enter, the Gorn hit the bridge and most of it tore off in one go," he paused for a second, his eyes seeming distanced from the room he was in, "Lieutenant Marlick, the chief engineer was dead, half my crew were dead, I realised I was the most senior person alive and I decided to make a run for it."

"There was nothing you could do Lieutenant," Wilcox stated, "I wish I could offer you a couple of weeks off, but I'm afraid we are in a bad state," Wilcox paused and looked at Hans; he seemed so disturbed at what he was hearing. Wilcox needed to deal with that. "Lieutenant, could you please report to Engineering with the rest of your engineering crew and help Lieutenant V'ras with repairs."

The lieutenant nodded and left the room. Wilcox turned round in his chair, a move that was not easy due to the small size that the room was. "Commander, what's on your mind?"

Hans looked at the Captain and moved round to the other side of the desk. Wilcox turned round in his chair following him. For the first time since Wilcox had met the Geckonian, he sensed a real apprehension in the Commander.

"I guess I was worried for my countryman there for a while sir," the Geckonian stated, "The thought of hundreds of them dying was just a little too much to comprehend for a second."

"I'm sorry commander," Wilcox replied, "But we are your countrymen now," he added. Hans had after all left the Geckonian nation in order to join starfleet, there was no reason why he should consider anyone in the Geckonian nation as his countrymen.

"I know that sir," he paused for a second, "But you can't deny nature, I have Geckonian blood, DNA and mind. They are the same as me and I cannot explain why I feel the way I did. They just as much betrayed me as they feel I betrayed them."

Wilcox sympathised with the Geckonian, he had no idea how he would feel in similar circumstances, "I asked you only yesterday that I needed to know where your loyalties lay," he stated, "You told me that it was with Starfleet."

"Yes sir, yes it is," Hans replied quickly.

Wilcox looked at the Geckonian in the eye, standing up in the process, "I can't be sure of that." Something bothered the Captain greatly. Could he really trust this man as his second in command? Despite his good feeling about the man, there were some conflicting loyalties. "Commander, I need you to be honest," he said, "Will you follow my every order, even if it conflicts with the best interests of Geckonia?"

Hans didn't flinch, he looked at Wilcox in the eye, the yellow colour of his eyes gave Wilcox a slither of fear and he clenched his stomach for the response, "Sir, there is a saying on the Geckonian world, 'Duty or Death'."

Wilcox knew instantly what that meant. That no matter what, his executive officer would do his duty, otherwise there was no point in living. It was a great testament to the species and to Hans. Wilcox thought that there were several species that would rather run when the going got tough and even Starfleet officers would certainly do the same in some cases. Even the toughened marines were not immune to cowardice. Wilcox knew that words were worthless, but he had known no one who could give that kind of sincerity and conviction when telling him that. Wilcox confirmed what he needed to know, he could trust his executive officer.

"I need you to do a job for me commander," Wilcox stated, "I need you to prepare a class nine probe that can manipulate its warp field to look like the Nightingale." He paused and looked at the Commander, he wanted to make sure that the Commander knew what he meant, "I need to fool the Gorn into thinking where we are."

Hans nodded.

Suddenly the room shook a little; Wilcox pondered on what that could be. Another shake happened immediately and he nearly fell of his footing. "What the hell is that?"

**Stardate 53121.5**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

Captain Wilcox and Commander Hans walked onto the bridge of the vessel as a third shake of the craft rocked the ship, this time a little more. "Report," Wilcox demanded from Shrak who was on the bridge watch one more time.

"The Gorn are attempting to locate our exact position by using some sort of modulated torpedo," Shrak reported moving to the tactical console, replacing a crewman that Wilcox didn't recognise.

"It's similar to Borg technology," Williams added from across the bridge, "But far less sophisticated."

Wilcox stood in the middle of the bridge, "Lieutenant Visitor, how long can you keep them off our backs?"

The Lieutenant gave a worried look, "A matter of hours, perhaps four if we get lucky."

Wilcox bit his lip and turned to Hans, "Commander, I need you to get to engineering, tell them they have one hour to do whatever repairs they can," he paused for a second, "And you have one hour to get me my class nine probe ready."

Hans nodded his head and left the bridge. The senior crew on the bridge, Shrak, Visitor and Williams all looked at the Captain, he felt hot under the collar. Taking a big gulp he sat down in chair placing his hands onto the arms, "Get ready people, we're going in for round two."


	19. Chapter 19

**Stardate 53121.6**

_**Captain's Log:** My crew in the last hour have done the remarkable. With the help of additional engineers, V'ras had managed to improve the situation drastically. We are now capable of warp nine, have shields at ninety percent and we have both our forward phaser banks online not to mention one of the two torpedo launchers able to fire. In terms of the crew, I've seen a marked improvement in their morale over the past few hours, since the discovery of survivors from the Brave. We're still in a bad state, there is no doubt about that, but at least we have hope. Which is a good thing because I am about to take this ship and shove a firecracker up the Gorn exhaust pipe._

**Stardate 53121.6**

**USS NIghtingale, Bridge**

Captain Wilcox strode onto the bridge, he felt confident. He had a plan, he had a way to get out of all of this and he was going to make Slov look like an idiot in the process. As he took his place on the bridge, he looked around. Lieutenant Visitor, who was essential to his plan, was running diagnostic after diagnostic while reading a manual he recognised that was crucial to him plan. He hadn't have already known, he would have been worried she couldn't do it, but he knew her record and knew what she was going to do was exactly what she had gotten her promotion for. Shrak at the back was running orders down to the armoury team on deck two. Now that internal communications were back online that was a much easier task. Williams was conducting scans and monitoring the incoming locating devices that would shake the ship from time to time. Several other crewmembers were going about their business, making sure systems were working at their best under the circumstances.

John knew that Torlik would not be joining them for this particular action. He was still recovering from his head injury and burns he received during the first attack. Doctor Burton was at this point busying herself with preparing sickbay for incoming injuries. John's plans was to knock out the Gorn vessel, before it had a chance to respond, however as an instructor had always said to him, plans always work until the first enemy contact. In this case, John felt that it might not even go that far, but at least he had some contingencies this time. Hans would join him on the bridge momentarily, he was currently making the last preparations to the plan that John had requested of him. If Hans did his job right, it would certainly give John the advantage.

In the last hour, John had not idly sat by while his crew did all the work either. He had studied the previous battle and read up on Slov on the Federation database. There was not much known about his life, experiences or tactics; except for the past eighteen months, during his combat in the Dominion Wars. There Starfleet was able to gather very specific information on his style of combat, his strengths and weaknesses. Slov was a person who stuck to a style of attack rigidly. As soon as he saw the enemy he would beam in death squads and attack from the outside simultaneously. Even in their earlier engagement Slov only diverged from the plan by beaming all his troops into one place, when he couldn't beam them into multiple locations. John still attempted to get his head around the technology that Torlik had integrated into the ship. V'ras had been able to complete the work that the operations officer had started. With luck Slov would be unable to beam anyone onboard this time.

Slov was also a simple man. He thought very much in two dimensions. During the Dominion War there several instances where the Jem'Hadar had fooled him in combat. Turning his flank or surprising him. It was often brute force that saved the day for the Gorn and their significant numerical advantage. But yet it was a kink in the reptilian's armour.

As the time that he set to start his plan John noticed his stomach tighten with nerves. He had never felt like this in combat before. He tried to think what was so different this time around compared to other countless times he prepared for battle. During the Dominion Wars he fought numerous planned battles on the Ark Royal, but all of them he was the executive officer. The offensive plans were not his; they were an Admiral's, another Captain's or even his own Captain's. He had only followed orders in those instances. He hadn't formulated anything those times, now he had. Perhaps that was his problem, what was making him uneasy - everyone's lives depended on plans, calculations, analysis he had done. If he had made any errors, everything could be lost. But unlike if he did nothing, they would all have a chance of survival. No matter the risks, it was better than zero.

Hans entered the bridge with little time to spare before John had set for his plan to be initiated. "Is it done Commander?" John asked as Hans sat in the executive chair next to him.

"It is," Hans replied looking at the arm rests control interface, "We are ready to go."

"Ensign Williams," Wilcox next commanded, "Are you sure that you have the location of the Gorn vessel correct?"

Williams brought up a map on the viewscreen showing many dotted lines. "All the trajectories of the incoming homing torpedoes have come from the same area," he paused for a second, "I can't be one hundred percent sure until I see it for myself, but if I were a betting man, that is where I would place my chips sir."

Wilcox nodded, taking in the imagery that Williams had used, and looked down towards the helmsman. "Lieutenant Visitor," he said, "Are you ready?"

Lieutenant Visitor pressed a few buttons on her console and turned round in her station's chair, "I'm as ready as I'll ever be sir," she paused for second, "though I can't guarantee this will work." Wilcox pondered for a second, the young Lieutenant sounded more hesitant than her normal enthusiastic self. John wondered if he was pushing her too much beyond her comfort zone, yet it was the only way young officers would grow.

"Noted Lieutenant," Wilcox replied, "Launch the argos shuttles."

**Stardate 53121.6**

**Gorn Imperial Cruiser Vor, Bridge **

Slov stood in the middle of the bridge looking over the data that was coming from his sweeps of the nebula. So far his crew had been able to clear eighty percent of the nebula, it would only be another two hours and they would have swept the whole nebula. The Nightingale would be found in that time, sooner or later. Slov would have his victory against the Federation. During the Dominion war he had to bend to their will, now they would bow down to him, before he extinguished their lives. He had already decided that once the Geckonians were finished the Federation would be next. He would take the worlds which they had annexed over the centuries, make them pay for the Gorn blood lost.

A beeping across the room gave focus to Slov, "Two small vessels have exited the nebula," the tactical officer announced, he voice calm and collective; not at all concerned that ships they did not know about had suddenly appeared. Slov wondered what two little ships were doing in the nebula in the first place. "They appear to be Federation shuttles sir, Argos class."

The ship shuddered violently for a second as the shuttles initiated an attack against his vessel. Slov pondered for a moment, could they really be thinking of attacking his mighty vessel with just two shuttles. The warriors in those shuttles were brave souls. But he too was a warrior and he was glad to send those souls to the next world, which ever world they believed in. "Target the lead shuttle," Slov ordered, "I want it destroyed instantly."

The tactical officer nodded his head. Slov noted his fingers run effortless over the console, but there was a problem, the tactical officer struggled with something. "Our sensors have been hit several times," he reported, "They have taken significant damage, I can't lock on with our weapons."

"Then fire blind," Slov sneered, "If you don't hit those ships I will have your head on a plate and present it to your family."

The tactical officer nodded and ran his hands over the controls again. Slov sighed as he looked at what little information was now coming in on the sensor telemetry. He could see the two shuttles working in perfect unison, as if they were being flown by one person. Slov contemplated for a second if they were, then one of the symbols on the screen flashed and disappeared. The tactical officer had destroyed one of the Argos shuttles, Slov gave the tactical officer an approving nod as sparks flew from the engineering console.

"They've hit the warp engines," the engineering officer shouted, "If they keep it up, our warp drive will be reduced."

"Tactical," Slov walked to the console where his officer stood, "Take out that last shuttle."

The tactical officer nodded before he looked up from his controls, "Sir a ship is leaving the nebula," he paused for a second to look back at his readings. Slov waited with bated breath, could this be the Nightingale, trying to run. How cowardly, but he expected nothing else from humans. "It is the Nightingale; they are heading for the Geckonian home world sir."

Slov stood for a moment; he couldn't believe that they would run further into a combat zone. Though at this time, the Geckonian home world was being heavily defended by the Geckonian fleet, it was probably the safest place in the region at the moment. He was about to order a pursued course when another beeping at the console occurred.

"Another ship is exiting the nebula, heading in the opposite direction, towards Federation space," the tactical officer announced looking at the console, "I'm reading the warp signature of the Nightingale."

Slov thought for a moment, holding himself against another shake from the shuttle's continued attack. The second signal was the more logical choice to be the real one. The Earthlings would want to get back to their lines. The one going the other way was less likely, unless they decided to ally themselves with the Geckonians. A Starfleet captain was prohibited to do so unless they had permission from the Federation Council, Slov highly doubted that their precious council would have given that permission, especially as they had not intercepted any messages coming from or to the nebula.

The tactical officer looked as puzzled at Slov, however Slov began to know what was going on, "The first one must have been a ruse," he paused to brace himself from another shock from the remaining Argos shuttle, "Set a pursuit course on the second ship," he looked at the sensor readouts noticing the ship was at warp nine, "maximum warp." At that speed it would take mere seconds to catch up with the human vessel, but he would destroy it. He watched as just before they entered warp the other Argos shuttle was destroyed. Slov smiled, the brave warriors on the shuttles would soon be joined by their comrades on the vessel.

"They are sending a signal to their Federation," an officer shouted from across the room. Suddenly the officer raised a hand signalling he was getting more information, "And they have confirmation of receipt from a Federation Starbase."

Slov smacked his hands against the nearest wall, everything he had tried so hard to hide, was now coming to an end. The command structure of Starfleet probably had all the details they needed now to come in and aid the Geckonians and despite their reduced strength, they were still a threat to him. "Are in range of the Nightingale yet?" he asked his tactical officer.

"Yes sir."

"Then blow it away," he ordered. The tactical officer pressed a button and Slov watched the screen as the symbol representing the Nightingale faded. He felt a moment of joy, at least he had ceased the actions of the thorn in his side.

"Sir," the tactical officer wanted to add something to the report, "the debris field is too small to be that of the Nightingale, it looks as if it is a probe."

Slov's eyes widened with the realisation, he had been tricked; they were really going to the Geckonian home world. "Set a course for that other signal," Slov reported, "that is the real Nightingale. Set course, maximum warp."

Slov watched again as his ship lurched into warp in the opposite direction. As the time passed he licked his lips, anticipating that this moment was the real moment he would get his revenge. He had lost some good soldiers when he sent them across to the Nightingale and he would avenge them, just as Gorn military procedure dictated. But deep down there something more personal in this fight, he was going to eradicate the hero Hans, the one who had humiliated him twenty years ago. His only regret was that he could not kill the scum with his bare hands.

"We are approaching the target sir," his tactical officer announced, "Charging weapons and locking on target."

Slov savoured the moment, feeling the anticipation with great excitement. He was about to give the order to fire when the deck below him almost fell apart. Slov fell down, hitting his head on a support strut that felt hard.

"That was a quantum torpedo," the tactical officer shouted, "The hit the warp engines, we're drifting. And our weapons are offline" His voice sound like a panicking animal, scared for its life, most unbecoming of a Gorn officer.

"How did they hit us from behind?" Slov asked, "They are in front of us."

**Stardate 53121.6**

**USS NIghtingale, Bridge**

Wilcox stood up from his chair, seeing the explosion on the Vor was strangely exhilarating. Williams confirmed that their warp drive was offline, giving Wilcox cause for celebration. "Set a course for the Geckonian home world, maximum warp, engage," he ordered confidently as he attempted to avoid his strut to the command chair. "Good work on those probes Commander," Wilcox said smiling, "That should annoy him a while longer."

The Nightingale slid effortless past the now disabled Vor, doing a flyby of the second probe that had now fulfilled its role, before gliding into warp.


	20. Chapter 20

**Stardate 53124.5**

_**Captain's Log:** It has been a tense time, but we are eventually getting close to the outer regions on the Geckonian home system. Lieutenant Commander Hans has told me that long range scans, although not at their full capacity, have detected numerous Gorn patrol vessels around the system, but a large Geckonian fleet inside the system. It seems to me as if, despite all that General Slov would seem to imply, the Geckonian military is still very much a force to be reckoned with. Hans has informed me, using his experience and contacts on the Geckonian Home world, he was able to inform them of our intended arrival and we have safe passage, which is more of a relief to me than anyone. Despite all that we have achieved recently, there is a worry that this ship will not take another beating, we were lucky with the Slov the last time that I was able to get him into a position where we could hit his unprotected rear. But unless the whole of the Gorn fleet want to show us their backsides, we will not have such an easy time around Geckonia._

_It is also a worry that another probe we were able to send out; shows that the Federation border is rife with Gorn attack vessels. Starfleet confirmed they would send a rescue effort, but I doubt that they will be prepared for the forces that they will meet. I dare not say this to the crew, they are all jubilant that we have escaped thus far and believe that a task force will come and get us in the next couple of days. _

**Stardate 53124.5**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

Wilcox sat in his chair. He had been able to get a good few hours sleep last night and was feeling refreshed, but still anxious. He knew that the Gorn would surely know that he was on his way by now to the Geckonian home world. Slov would have contacted his forwarded units and ordered the Nightingale's destruction. Wilcox had dismissed the idea of destroying his vessel for two reasons. One, the Federation were not at war with the Gorn, and destroying a crippling ship went against Starfleet regulations with such diplomatic relations. Another was the concern that the Gorn might have repaired the weapons faster than they anticipated which could have caused severe damage to the Nightingale. It was not worth the risk in his mind.

Also there was a problem with what was supposed to be coming. Everyone on the ship was excited by the prospect of a Starfleet task force coming to the rescue, but John knew deep down, that vessel would have to fight its way to the Geckonian home world. He dare not allow anyone else know his thoughts. It was hope that was getting the crew through every hour of painstaking work. Even for John he had personally fixed the replicator in his quarters and replaced about a dozen relays on deck one. His hands felt raw from short circuiting areas of the ship where he had conducted repairs. And he wasn't the only one to have received a nasty shock from the repairs that had taken place while en-route. According to Doctor Burton there had been a total of sixty eight accidents during the last twenty four hours. Luckily for the crew, none of them had been major and the injured personnel were always back to their duty area within the hour.

Wilcox slanted his head onto the back of his chair, trying to ignore the seemingly moving stars that were flowing from the front of the craft to the back. John knew it was an illusion, the inertia dampeners making him feel as if he wasn't moving and the stars looking as if they were racing round the ship. Added to the fact that John knew they had precious time in which to get to safety, he felt as if the ship was not moving. Hans who was sat next to him in the executive officer's chair was going over some of the messages he had received from the Geckonian military. All of the messages were in code, in which only he could translate. John hoped they gave some small useful details.

"This is extraordinary," Hans suddenly whispered under breath towards John. John lent forward towards his executive officer, giving him a look for him to continue, "The Geckonian military reports ever since the war started," he continued, "They've given me a lot." John looked down at the arm control panel, trying to glimpse at what was on there. "I've got fleet deployments and future battle plans as well." Hans' eyes lit up as if he was a child in a sweet shop. There was no other way to describe his glee at the information that he had been presented with.

"How is that going to help us?" John asked, "All we need at the moment is a safe harbour."

"It gives me a pretty good idea on how the war is actually going," Hans replied, "So far we've only had the Gorn perspective. And at that apparently a slightly maddening one, if you read this latest intelligence report."

John felt a strange sense of curiosity, "What do you mean by maddening?" he asked, trying to move his head further over to get a better look.

"General Slov, he is suffering from the Gorn equivalent of dementia," Hans said running his finger over the lines, "According to this, the Gorn Hegemony became worried about his actions several months ago, they did a medical test and it showed the early signs of the very rare fronto-temporal dementia."

"Okay," John said, wondering why Starfleet intelligence did not know that, however with their attention solely concentrated on the Dominion and its allies for the past two years, they probably had little resources to spare to spy on a General. "Why is he still in service?"

"The Gorn, they don't retire," Hans impassively replied looking up from the screen and directly at John, "They serve in whatever capacity they do, until they die from natural causes or are killed by a person wanting to take their place."

Wilcox sat back in his chair and looked at the view screen. Was this attack on the Geckonians all a ploy to get Slov killed by his superiors at home? Was it a way to strike at the Geckonian nation and blame it on a mentally ill person? There were too many questions. He decided that there was one question that had to be answered first.

**Stardate 53124.5**

**USS Nightingale, Sickbay**

"What is fronto-temporal dementia Doctor?" Wilcox asked. He had rushed down to the infirmary with Hans in order to get more information on what the condition their pursuer had.

"It is a very rare form of dementia, normally affecting younger patients," Burton replied as she ran a dermal regenerator over the hand of an operations crewman, "Why do you ask?" she looked at the Captain briefly before going back to her work on the patient.

"What are the symptoms?" Hans asked in his typically neutral voice.

"There are several signs depending on the species and their cultural and genetic backgrounds," Burton replied, "However there are a few common signs between species." She paused putting down the regenerator and picking up her medical tricorder, passing it over the crewman a couple of times. "The patient often becomes more aggressive, confused, compulsive behaviour and is easily distracted." Burton paused putting the tricorder down on a table next to her before she looked at the crewman she had been healing, "Okay crewman, you are free to go."

The crewman nodded to her and then to the Captain before jumping of the bio bed and out of the infirmary. "Why do you ask Captain," she paused for a second and then grabbed her tricorder again. This time she ran the wand over the John, who gave her a decidedly fed up look.

"I'm not asking for myself Doctor," he said, as calmly as he could try, "Slov, he was diagnosed with it several months ago." John added.

"Then there is nothing that can be done for him sir," Burton said, "I'm afraid, like Lieutenant Commander Hans here, there is no cure for him."

Hans raised an eyebrow John noted, but said nothing. "What do you mean by that?" John asked, "What do you mean there is nothing that you can do for him like Commander Hans."

Burton bit her lip, "If it was you or I, or any other mammalian or avian species, then we have cures for all dementia types nowadays," she paused for a bit, "But Starfleet Medical and several other notable powers, have yet to find a cure that works on reptilian brains. They are just too different."

Wilcox looked at Hans and gave him a quick shrug. "Doctor," Wilcox stated, "If Slov has this, how long does he have?"

Burton sighed, placing a hand on her waist, "Well," she replied, "This form of dementia is practically slow in reptilian species," she paused for a second, tilting her head to one side.

Wilcox felt that he was starting to get a little too much information from her and wanted just a number, was it days, weeks, months or longer?

"Probably about two years after initial signs had appeared," she answered.

John nodded, "Thank you doctor," he stated, "You've been very helpful." John walked out of the room; he could feel Hans follow him into the turbo lift.

**Stardate 53124.5**

**USS Nightingale, Turbo lift One**

John didn't much care for Slov, he wasn't interested in a cure for him, nor making him feel more comfortable. But John was concerned about the person who was in charge in such a large fleet, having a condition that made him more aggressive and compulsive made him very dangerous. His obvious hatred for the Geckonians had started the war in the first place. However there was a feeling deep down that because of the actions of the Brave and now his own actions on the Nightingale that Slov may feel that the Federation could be a target.

John knew that Starfleet were not well enough equipped to deal with another conflict zone. Starfleet only had a fleet at the moment of about three thousand five hundred. In pre war times, starfleet maintained a fleet that hovered just above the eight thousand one hundred mark. Personnel were also in short supply. This meant that ships were spread pretty thin across the whole Federation. But they also had other commitments, the defence of Bajor, who was now going through the process of joining the Federation and the continued actions in Cardassian space, being part of the Allied Occupational forces and providing relief for the colonies badly affected by the war, which included Federation and Cardassian worlds.

In response Starfleet was building a new style of fleet. Before the war Starfleet had built ships which were impressive, and designed to be multifunctional. This was a good concept for the fleet at the time, before the Dominion and Borg. But now the Federation needed a new style of fleet, something that had been recognised before the war. Instead of building moderate numbers of Galaxy, Sovereign and Luna class vessels; these ships were to be built in smaller numbers with smaller mission specific vessels, with smaller crews, being built in much larger numbers. It was a formula which directly led to the creation of the Saint Bernard class vessel, and more importantly to John the USS Nightingale. The fleet already boasted several other designs such as the Intrepid, the Saber, the defiant and the Nova which had been designed with this in mind. Starfleet projected that in the future with similar pre war man power levels instead of fleet of about eight thousand ships; they could have a fleet of over twelve thousand.

But that was the future; it would take decades of hard work to get those numbers. John quickly brought himself to the future. Starfleet only had three thousand five hundred and they were not even all able to be deployed to the area. A new war on this front would cost many more lives.

"I'm worried," John said out aloud to his executive order. He could tell that he was showing nerves in his voice.

"What about Captain?" Hans asked his voice annoyingly calm again.

"Slov," Wilcox said, "I'm worried that he will see the Federation as a target, if his judgement is that far gone."

"The Federation can defend itself," Hans replied, his voice calm.

"No we can't," John knew his executive officer was being optimistic, "The Federation has too many commitments at the moment," he paused for a second, "We have nearly five hundred ships assigned to the Cardassian Occupational Forces, let alone our commitments to humanitarian aid we are delivering to the systems attacked by the Dominion." John paused, "We probably have about two hundred ships that might be able to be deployed along these lines," Wilcox continued, calculating numbers in his head very quickly, "And we can't guarantee all those would be combat vessels."

Hans turned to face John for a second, "What are you saying sir?"

"We need to keep the Geckonians in the war," John paused for a moment, "Otherwise the Gorn could turn their full attention on the Federation."

"Federation law prevents us from interfering," Hans replied, "We cannot technically give aid to the Geckonians."

"We are already involved Commander," John replied, his head now thudding from a headache over the whole idea, "We've fired on a Gorn vessel, asked for a Starfleet task force to come and fight its way in here to come and get us and hell, we are even going to the Geckonian home world for help." John paused and hit his hand on the wall, "How much more involved can we get?"

"We were attacked Captain," Hans replied, his voice had changed to that one of being sympathetic, "The Gorn did not respect our neutrality and attacked us," he paused for a second licking his lips, "We have done nothing but defend ourselves. The only reason why we are going to the Geckonian home world is because we thought that the Gorn would block our way to the Federation border. And we were right."

John paused for a moment, "I think you have just made my point," he replied in a low voice, "They have already disrespected our neutrality, how can we trust that they will not attack us in force in our own territory."

Hans said nothing but now John could see that there was a sudden realisation that there was that possibility, as long as Slov was in command.


	21. Chapter 21

Stardate 53125.4

USS Nightingale, Bridge - In geosynchronous orbit over Geckonia

"_USS Nightingale, this is Geckonia Traffic Control, remain in your orbit path, do not power up your weapons or raise shields. Do not contact anyone other than the official government representative. Failure to adhere to these rules will result in you being considered a hostile vessel and we will respond accordingly,_" the cold neutral voice ordered over the communications systems. John felt a cold shiver down his back as the communication channel from the Geckonia Traffic Controller had ceased in a blaze of static.

"They could at least be a little friendly," Shrak snorted, "After all we are giving them our support in their little war." Her antennas moved around, twisting in stomach wrenching moves. John shot a look at Shrak in a condemning look for speaking out of turn.

"Let's not forget Lieutenant, we are the ones in need of help," John reminded her, continuing the stern look. John turned to Hans and gave a brief smile, "So, what next?" he asked his first officer.

"We wait," Hans said patiently, "I have already informed the government of our needs and our reasons for being here, they will not take long into responding."

"Respond with what though?" John asked. Hans shrugged and went to a personnel report that he had been given as soon as they got onto the bridge. John knew he was probably letting his feelings known. He didn't trust the situation. The Geckonians and the Federation weren't enemies by any stretch of the imagination, but neither were they the best of friends. John knew there was a Federation embassy down on the planet, but being forbidden to contact them, meant a long wait sitting on his backside with nothing to do but count the seconds that ticked by.

"You can't blame them for being a little less friendly than we would want Captain," Chloe from the helms stations stated, "at the moment they are in a war, they have to be careful." She turned round to face the central area of the bridge.

John gave a reassuring nod, "That is true Lieutenant," he paused, admiring the young woman's logic. She was certainly a good officer, but he felt there were some times where the officer might need some seasoning.

The operations control panel started beeping behind John, he turned round and looked at the young ensign who was at the station there at the moment, Torlik was still in a coma in sickbay. The young ensign looked at the controls and nodded his head, "We are receiving a hail from the Prime Minister's Official Office sir," he announced.

Hans raised a cheeky smile at John, that didn't go unnoticed, but John wasn't going to drawn into that conversation at the moment, "On screen," John ordered, standing from his chair and pulling his uniform tunic downwards.

On the view screen came a face of a warm smiling man, looking very similar in style to that of Hans, but his hair was ginger colour instead of Hans' white and his skin had more of a pattern of green and yellow than that of pure olive green. Another difference from Hans was the lack of clothes that the man on the screen was wearing. "Mister Prime Minister, I am Captain John Wilcox, commanding officer of the USS Nightingale," John paused for a second, "Thank you for contacting me so quickly, during what must be such a busy time for you."

The man gave a courteous nod, "_You are most welcome Captain. I understand you have yet to contact your embassy here on the planet, please feel free to do so, we will not take offence_."

John turned round to Hans, giving a surprised look, he turned back to the screen to look at the Prime Minister, "I apologies Prime Minister for asking, but Traffic Control said we were not suppose to contact anyone other than on the official government channels?"

"_I will have that sorted out for you Captain, please accept my apologies, traffic control tend to see everyone in the same light_," the Prime Minister paused for a second, giving a wider smile. John nodded his acceptance of the apology, something that Hans had quickly taught him to do in such a circumstance. Hans stood up and walked so he was next to the Captain. "_Hans, is that you?_"

"Mister Prime Minister," Hans said, John thought that the Prime Minister must know that Hans was on the ship, as he had been the one to initiate the communications between the ship and the planet. "It is agreeable to see you again Mister Prime Minister, it has been far too long. I offer my apologies, but the Dominion War has kept me away from Geckonia." To John it sounded as if there a continued routine to this, as if it had all been rehearsed. If he hadn't have seen the transcripts for the communications John would have thought that the entire conversation was staged and would have felt uneasy. But John pondered whether this was some sort of cultural way of speaking. He knew that Hans hadn't actually spoken about any of this '_performance_', he had kept his communications to ship business.

The Prime Minister then gave a nod and looked back at the Captain, "_Captain Wilcox, I respectfully request to transport to your ship_," the Prime Minister said, in what John could only describe as a neutral voice, much like Hans' voice the majority of the time, "_There are important matters to discuss_."

John smiled, "Mister Prime Minister, we would be honoured to have you onboard, though I warn you; we cannot simulate the temperature you need."

The Prime Minister smiled and nodded his head, "_So kind of you to warn me Captain_," he replied his voice slightly teetering on friendly, "_But I have a thermal vest, in case for such matters_."

John smiled, "If you would like to arrange transport co-ordinates, I will arrange to have you beamed up as soon as you would like Mister Prime Minister."

The Prime Minister narrowed his eyes briefly; his mouth did a slight down turn. John wondered whether he had something wrong, he quickly gave a glance to Hans who was slightly shaking his head, he had done something wrong, but he didn't know what.

A later moment the Prime Minister's face resembled something that seemed friendly again, "_Of course Captain, I will arrange transport for myself and a small party in five minutes_."

"I look forward to meeting with you Mister Prime Minister," John said and with that the Prime Minister shut down the joint communications channel and the view screen returned to the star field which had been showing before the communication.

**Stardate 53125.4**

**USS Nightingale, Transporter Room 1 - In geosynchronous orbit over Geckonia**

Wilcox stood waiting by the transporter to initiate. His stomach felt very wobbly, like butterflies were causing hurricanes in there. Hans stood next him, in comparison looking as cool as a cucumber. Wilcox had slight moment of jealously of his Geckonian executive, able to keep such strong emotions under control, but he decided to use that thought to control his emotions. They had been in the transporter room for a number of minutes awaiting clearance to be able to beam up the Prime Minister. John had hoped to get a chance to speak to the Federation Ambassador on the planet, but there was little time in which he could spare the Ambassador and Hans had noted that Geckonians do not like tardiness.

"You will have to apologies several times in the first few minutes of this meeting sir," Hans suddenly broke the silence.

"Why?"

"You at first made him arrange when he was to beam up to the ship," Hans noted.

"That is only prudent considering his position, he's not a high school friend, he might not be able to drop everything at a moment's notice," John replied, he felt a little uncomfortable.

"As the host, the Geckonians would expect you to arrange such details," Hans replied, "You would then have to apologise for the state of the ship," he continued," and then there is the detail that you are not in dress uniform. And further to that, you must apologise for not personally escorting them from the surface."

"Do Geckonians always have to apologise in these matters?" John asked. He started scratching his head, then pulled his hand down, fearful that if his hair was out of place, he would have to apologise for that as well.

"It is not uncommon for apologies to take up a few minutes at the start of conversations," Hans said, his voice seemed that he too was not a fan of such a system, "I and other Geckonians in Starfleet, have learnt to cope without that part of culture. It was fairly easy to do so."

"Should I have prepared some sort of meal Commander?" Wilcox stated, turning slightly to his side to face his executive officer. Part of him was joking, but deep down, John was worried.

"No."

"That is good," Wilcox announced, relief washing through him, "The replicators just went offline again."

"They will bring the food, as is the custom with such events on Geckonia," Hans said, Hans gave a bigger smile.

"What is the local food like then Commander?" Wilcox asked, he had always had an interest in other cultures food, he was very fond of Vulcan and Tellerite food.

"Crickets!"

"Crickets?" John replied nearly choking on the words, "As in little bugs?"

Hans nodded, "They are normally flavoured," he added, "And alive. Geckonians have to have their food still alive in order to stimulate the digestive juices."

"The food is moving?" John said, his stomach started churning again, the thought of something wiggling around in his stomach brought back memories of Meshta gagh, which was a known jumping variety of the favoured Klingon dish.

"It is not unlike the Klingon food," Hans stated, "I particularly enjoy Klingon food."

Wilcox raised an eyebrow at Hans and turned back to the transporter, "Yeah, that's the one style of food I do not care to eat again as well."

"You may have to," Hans smiled, "To reject such an offer would be an insult to the Geckonian people, the Prime Minister and I would personally feel insulted as well."

"You?" Wilcox replied, "No offence Commander, but would you eat pizza?"

"No," Hans replied, "But I am unable to eat food that is not moving, it would make me unwell."

"Captain," the crewman at the controls of the transporter suddenly interrupted the conversation, "We have received the confirmation from the surface."

"Energize," Captain Wilcox said turning around again to face the transporter pad.

Five blue beams of light started to appear on the circles of the transporter pad. In each one a figure of a Geckonian appeared. Wilcox raised his head slightly, looking at the person in the centre as they slowly came to resemble the man he had a conversation with just a few minutes ago across the view screen. When the transporter had finished its process he noticed the new arrivals looking around their new surroundings.

"Mister Prime Minister," John tried to grab their attention, "Welcome to the Nightingale, I apologise for the mess, the recent attack by the Gorn has left us with a lot of cleaning up to do." The Prime Minister nodded. "I also apologise for not being able to arrange your arrival here, but I was unaware of your schedule." The Prime Minister nodded again in respect to what John had said. "And I must also apologise for being improperly dressed, many of my possessions had not yet reached the ship when we were rushed into service." The Prime Minister nodded again.

"I too must also apologise Captain," the Prime Minister added, "For I am interrupting what must be a very busy time for you Captain. But what I have to say is of the greatest of importance."

John nodded, "Mister Prime Minister, if I may, your apology is not necessary, in fact your presence is very much appreciated."

The natural smile of the Prime Minister turned into a large grin, "Come Captain, I have brought food, let us eat and talk as is tradition."

"My pleasure Prime Minister," John said stretching a hand out towards the door, "We shall eat in the conference room; my quarters are far too small to cater for two people."

"Excellent Captain," the Prime Minister replied, "Hans, please join us. I have brought your favourite, Tellarian Spiced Crickets and for you Captain; I have brought Chicken Sandwiches."

Wilcox shot a look at Hans and smiled, "You needn't have bothered to go to such lengths for me Prime Minister. I could have sampled Geckonian food." The Prime Minister smiled and exited the room with his party of five people following him. John took the lead of the group, directing them to the turbo life, while Hans took up the rear.

**Stardate 53126.2**

**USS Nightingale, Conference Room - In geosynchronous orbit over Geckonia**

After the meal had been finished, the Prime Minister had told his company to wait outside. Hans and Wilcox were left inside the room with the Prime Minister. John had to admit that the conversation throughout the meal had been mostly based on the ship and his career. John knew he hadn't much time, however he wanted to get as much out of the Geckonian leader as possible, and he could achieve that better by being courteous now and demanding later.

"Captain," the Prime Minister started to talk sternly, "I'm afraid that the war has not gone completely our way."

"You've suffered large number of casualties," Hans stated impassively, the Prime Minister just nodded, "How did this occur? Were you not prepared for such events?" Hans asked. Wilcox felt he was being undermined and shot a look over at his executive officer, not the only senior officer he had to do that too recently.

"We were prepared," the Prime Minister stated, "We found out about their plans, and we positioned our ships accordingly."

"But they saw you ship positions, and went around them, changed their plans," John stated, he had started to gather a picture of the events in his head. The Prime Minister nodded, "You got caught off guard."

"In recent days we've been able to reverse some of their gains," The Prime Minister seemed to go into a depressive mood, he's whole tone changed to a something that John recognised in officers during the Dominion War, when people had lost so many loved ones. "But when we recovered the planets," he took a large gulp, he had obviously difficultly in recounting his information, "The Gorn had completely eradicated the populations. We don't have an exact figure yet but billions of being people have died in a matter of days."


	22. Chapter 22

**Stardate 53128.2**

**USS Nightingale, Conference Room - In geosynchronous orbit over Geckonia**

Wilcox sat alone in the dark, his chair slightly swivelled from the desk that lay in the centre of the room, facing out towards a massive field of stars in the window. Each star just a pinpoint in the distance, barely recognisable than when they were up close. His heart felt heavy and his stomach felt empty. Even during the worst moments of the Dominion War, he had not known of the Cardassians or the Dominion never causing death on such levels. The number of deaths caused by the war had been estimated at nearly one billion combined between both sides. And even then, those deaths had occurred in two years of fighting. Yet here, in the space of what are two relatively small powers, the deaths of so many had happened in so little time.

John did not blame the Geckonians for the war. He had seen the evidence on Geckonian scans, Williams and V'ras had both confirmed their authenticity; the Gorn were completely behind the attacks. When John had eventually got around to speaking to the Federation Ambassador, he had confirmed what John had already known for a couple of hours. The Gorn were to blame. However, John was able to give official notice of the destruction of the brave to the senior government official in the area. John had also spoken to the chief of the Embassy security team, Commander Xian. He had assured John that the ambassador was safe. However there was some concern that there were six other embassies in the Geckonian nation run by the Federation, all of which were on planets that were overrun by the Gorn in the opening days. None of those planets had been liberated yet, though the Geckonian military did seem to now be pushing the Gorn back, except in the area close to the home world.

John had requested that Williams kept up constant sensor sweeps to see what was going on in the border areas of the system. Williams reported that their miraculous entrance into the system could not be repeated, the Gorn had sealed the gap in the perimeter; obviously they were detected getting in. John had hoped to escape somehow and meet up with Starfleet. But the space between the Geckonian home world and the Federation border was still rife with Gorn patrols. The Geckonians had been pushing back the Gorn, but as of yet there was no space where a ship could be completely safe. The Gorn had seemed relentless in their attacking of any ship which could endanger their plans, which unfortunately had included the Brave and the Nightingale.

The Gorn, so far around the Geckonian home system, had made little effort to attack the inner areas of the system. They were either waiting for re-enforcements, which intelligence from front line Geckonian forces suggested was not coming, or waiting for the Geckonians to make the first move.

John's mind switched again from the tactical situation back to the matter that was troubling him so deeply. He could not understand why a species that has previously been described by Federation diplomats as a rather intelligent and cunning species would commit genocide. John however remembered all the times recently that genocide had been recorded in history: the killing of Cardassian civilians by the Dominion forces at the end of the war; the killing of Bajoran people during the Cardassian Occupation and the Tzenkethi persecution of the Hydrania seven years ago were all examples of recent genocide. There were even infamous people in the history of Earth; Adolf Hitler, Phillip Green and Spanish Conquistadors that were famed for genocide. John, admittedly naively, had thought that history would help other species not to commit genocide. It would appear not.

John felt no anger at the Gorn, he was beyond that kind of thinking. He felt sad.

John looked round as the doors to the conference room slide gently open. A shadow of person stood in the door, before stepping into the room and letting the door behind them shut.

"Captain," the voice said, John instantly recognised that of Lieutenant Commander Hans, "Are you okay? Are the lights malfunctioning?"

"No," John sighed turning back to face the star field he had spent the last few hours staring at, "I just wanted some time to think." The dark surroundings helped his mind relax and think about the situation, but as of yet, he had not yet really been thinking too much of the best way out of here, but as what had happened. No matter how hard he tried, he could not shake what had happened and could not concentrate on the future.

Hans walked over to the conference table in the middle of the room, standing on the opposite side to that of John. He placed down a pad onto the table and looked at John, "The Geckonian Military liberated Grekin Two and Six an hour ago sir," Hans said, even his normally neutral voice had drifted into a glum tone, "They did a search of the entire planet, there are survivors hiding in deep caves," he continued, "but unfortunately all twenty five Federation citizens assigned to the embassy on two were killed sir."

John three his head back quickly, closing his eyes, holding back the pain he felt. He did not know any of those people there, but the deaths of Federation citizens would always be a disaster in his mind.

"Have we any idea for the other embassies?" John asked standing up and moving towards the window, some of the planet down below now visible, catching his attention for a moment.

"I'm afraid we've had no word from those systems at the moment," Hans replied quietly, "They are closer to the border areas. It might be several days before the Geckonian forces arrive in the area."

John nodded, but his stomach clenched at the thought of the inevitable news that those people were not alive anymore. "Is there anything else Commander?"

"What are we going to do sir?"

"What do you think we should do?" John asked turning his head slightly to the side, to get a view of his executive officer, who was now standing at ease behind the desk.

"We should join forces with the Geckonians sir," Hans replied.

"Is that a tactical decision or patriotic decision Commander?" John asked, sensing that another conflict of interest in his Geckonian officer between the Federation and his heritage.

"Sir with respect," Hans replied, "If we ignore that the Gorn are actually targeting Federation citizens during this war, are committing crimes as specified in interstellar law and have destroyed the USS Brave. We have no way of leaving this system now, not without being attacked by the Gorn."

"Are you saying we should have headed to the Federation border Commander?" John said, now taking a seat back at the table.

"No sir," Hans replied, his voice confident, "The Gorn were patrolling the border, blocking our way." Hans paused for a second and turned to face the door.

"Wait," John said, he turned round to face the Commander and commanded the lights to come on, illuminating the room for the first time in several hours. His eyes flinched at the brightness, something he had forgotten in his time being in the dark. "Starfleet has barely gotten out of one war, and you are asking me to commit it to another."

"I'm not asking you to commit to another war sir," Hans replied, "I'm telling you that the Gorn have started a war, and the Federation are as much a target as we are."

"And if we don't respond?"

"Then all those colonies along the Gorn border could be at risk," Hans replied, "There are millions of lives along the border. Human, Vulcan, Andorian, Bolian, Tellerite, they all need protecting and at the moment, we are the only ship available to do that."

"Damn it Hans," John replied sharply contrasting the calmness of the Geckonian, "We're a medical search and rescue vessel, not a warship." John sighed, fixings his eyes on some battle damage he had not seen before in the conference room.

"We have the ability to defend ourselves," Hans replied.

"With what?" John shouted slamming his fist down on the table hard, "We have three phasers barely working and slow loading torpedo launcher, not to mention reduced shields and armour." John turned round again at the window, "You want me to sacrifice all our lives on some foolish noble sentiment that our engaging them again will convince them that we will fight back, they already know we will. Otherwise a full scale invasion would have been launched already."

"Our weapons are sufficient to do defend us sir," Hans replied, "There are no more of the ship that we saw Slov on, these Gorn vessels seem to be of the older less advanced light cruiser the Gorn have employed for over a century."

John stared at the battle damage, a damaged console, showing a tactical readout of the system they were currently in. John noticed how, despite the damage it was still doing its duty. It seemed in all the chaos, this console had not forgotten its role to play.

"_Captain to the Bridge_," a shaky voice over the intercom sounded. "_Captain to the Bridge immediately_."

**Stardate 53128.2**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge - In geosynchronous orbit over Geckonia**

Captain Wilcox strode onto the bridge followed closely by Hans. John looked at Shrak who was standing in the middle of the bridge. He nodded to her and she immediately went round to the tactical position and relieved an enlisted man at the post. "What's up?" John said.

Williams brought up a scan log onto the main viewer, "I've detected weapons fire on the out regions of the system sir," he said nervously, "It looks as if half a dozen Gorn vessels have moved in to attack the Geckonian forces."

A Trill at the operations station turned his attention into the conversation, "Captain, Geckonian forces have asked for re-enforcements, their military command is sending more."

"There isn't enough sir, they need more ships," Shrak added to the conversation suddenly. John turned round to look at the tactical officer. He saw something in her eyes, she seemed to be agreeing with Hans at this point that they should immediately get involved in the battle.

John walked up to the tactical readout on the view screen, standing next to the helm manned by Lieutenant Visitor.

"Orders sir," she said gently.

John looked down at her, seeing her youthful face, so young, but so dedicated to the service. He had no doubt at that moment by the look in her eyes; that she would give her life for the service. Looking around the bridge he saw the same look in each of his officers. Yes there was fear, but each one of them had signed up for one reason, to serve the Federation. They all knew the risks; they all knew that Starfleet meant combat at times and most of these people had served the Federation in its darkest moments during the Dominion War.

John strode up to his chair and sat down in it, he could feel the eyes of the room focused completely on his, and his neck felt hot from the attention he got from it. But his job was command; his job was to make decisions. Everyone on board had shined to this point, now it was about time that he proved he had what to take to wear those four pips on his collar. He had to stop thinking of the past, there was nothing he could do about it, what was done is done. The only thing that mattered was what they were going to do.

"Lieutenant Visitor," John said, he noticed Hans flinch, preparing for what he would expect to be an unfavourable decision, "set an intercept course for the battle area and get us there as quick as possible." John saw Hans' mouth almost drop to the floor, he obviously didn't expect that. John just turned to his executive officer as he sat on his right hand side and said in a low voice so no one else could hear, "Thanks for reminding me of my duty." Hans nodded and gave a wider smile.

"We should be in the vicinity of the battle in eight minutes," Chloe announced at the helm.

John nodded and opened the newly fixed internal communications from his arm rest, "All hands battle stations."


	23. Chapter 23

**Stardate 53128.2**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

John tightly held onto the arm rests as the young Lieutenant counted down to the time that they would reach the battle area. John had given his crew very little warning about this battle, but yet everyone was getting ready admirably. John looked on the screen as Williams had placed the sensor data he was getting straight onto a tactical map of the system. John couldn't help but cheer on the Geckonians as every spark against a Gorn vessel resulted in another obstacle being eliminated. It was a thought that John had become accustomed too now, thinking of a hostile force as nothing more than obstacles. It allowed their losses to dwell on the mind less. He also felt the pain as every Geckonian vessel was destroyed too, they were allies and the only friends they had at the moment. He had not yet found a way to subside the feelings he had about friends.

John watched with intent as he battle unfolded in front of him, he was only a couple of minutes out and the battle was very young, but the strategies of both sides were very apparent. The Gorn were trying to split to the Geckonians into smaller, more manageable groups and the Geckonians were trying to take on the Gorn head on. John thought it was strange that the Geckonians weren't aware that the Gorn vessel's main weakness was the rear, where the hull was highly vulnerable to torpedo fire. The movement of the two groups of ships seemed like a dance and John couldn't help but notice that the Geckonian commander was doing his best to keep his fleet in one piece.

John knew from the tactical information being relayed to him that the heavy cruiser that Slov had been commanding was not in the fleet, nor were any of the Gorn ships like the one he commanded. From what information that his science officer could get was that the ships they were facing were standard Gorn cruisers, far less sophisticated and with weaker weapons and hull. Hans had run his own analysis of the Gorn vessels, and determined that the rear of these vessels were just as fragile, if not more, than that of Slov's flagship.

"Tactical," John said, "Send a message to the Geckonian flagship; tell them to concentrate their fire on the rear of the Gorn vessels," John looked at Hans, "Any idea on how we can actually fight in this battle Commander?" He asked hesitantly, committing the iNightingale/i into battle and her being able to slug it out, were two completely different things.

"We've got the two forward phasers back online to ninety six percent," Hans replied confidently, "And we're able to fire a torpedo every minute now."

John could only muster a sceptical look; they may have weapons, but they were in a pitiful state to say the least. But it did not matter, they were in a dire situation and it was best to engage the enemy when they had lots of friends than when they had none. "What about shields?"

"Still at ninety per cent," replied Hans smiling, "But I would rather have these shields at ninety percent than a galaxy's at one hundred."

John shook his head.

"One minute," shouted Lieutenant Visitor from the front of the bridge. She barely looked up at the screen, which could now show the position of the Nightingale on with every other ship in the battle zone. If the readings were correct, and John hoped to hell they were, they should be coming up to the centre of the Geckonian lines. John had noticed that the Geckonians were slightly changing their tactics with small groups of their destroyers breaking off into squadrons and attempting to get in-between the Gorn targeting their rear areas.

John instinctively turned round when the turbo lift doors slid loudly open. In the doorway stood the bruised figure of the Ensign Torlik, his face still showing the signs of the burns he had received. "Ensign Torlik," John addressed the man in as neutral fashion as possible, he had hoped to control the next meeting between the two of them in order to get some answers out of him, "What the hell are you doing out of sickbay?"

"Doctor released me sir," he said, standing stiff at attention.

"She said you could report for duty?" John questioned. John couldn't imagine Doctor Burton releasing a man, who was obviously still suffering from severe injuries. He noticed some of his clothes were still ragged from his earlier fight with the equipment he had on deck seven.

"She didn't say I couldn't," Torlik replied giving a wry smile.

"Report to your station," John said giving the man a nod. Whatever Torlik had said or done to get himself out of sickbay, he had come on duty, John could think of a hundred officers he knew that would not bother with such injuries.

Torlik took his station as if it was a normal day, replacing a senior non commissioned officer who took another station across the bridge. John then turned his attention back to the view screen, noting mere seconds were all that stood between his ship and battle again.

**Stardate 53128.2**

**Outer region of Geckonian Space**

The large shining orange hulk of the Gorn vessel bore down on its prey like an owl onto a shrew. It had the strength of its weapons and the accuracy of the finest tactical officers in the fleet. Her Captain was proud, her crew were fine. Now Geckonian vessels were been laid waste by their experience and dedication to the cause. She had seen numerous battles, fought many enemies, but none had been as personal to her crew or as gratifying as this single conflict. As another lame enemy vessel collapsed under her weight of power, her crew felt invincible.

But in their glory came complacency. In their victory came recklessness. In the heat of battle had come clumsiness. She had been allowed to stray too far from her own lines and that of her sister ship's covering fire. By the time that her crew had realised they were in a perilous position it was too late. In the moments that it took to adjust their course to take them back to their assigned position and safety, they were hit in near the starboard nacelle by phaser fire. The next hit, a quantum torpedo on the exhaust manifold, ignited the expending plasma that engulfed the proud ship in a plume of fire that erased her and her crew from any future existence.

Her slayer, a Federation vessel, glided past the burning wreckage.

**Stardate 53128.2**

**USS Nightingale, Bridge**

"Good shot Lieutenant," John shouted across to his gleaming tactical officer, "Helm take us about three six mark one zero six," he ordered, taking them on a course to get them right into the middle of the Geckonian lines.

Lieutenant Visitor nodded and the ship lurched itself into a new direction. John felt the temporary G force squeeze his stomach as the inertia dampers caught up with the movements. A sudden display of sparks from an unmanned area of the bridge brought his thoughts back to the idea that they were now close to the battle.

"Shields are holding," reported Shrak, "But we've got three Gorn cruisers on our stern," she cautiously announced. From that position they were untouchable by the Nightingale's weapons.

John got off his chair and stepped forward nearer to the helm station, his eyes fixed on to the screen that showed the aggressors, in a standard arrowhead formation, chasing his ship. "Lieutenant, I want you to pump as much juice as you can into the starboard impulse engine and shunt the port impulse engine into reverse on my order," John gave a wicked smile before looking back at his executive officer who returned the gesture with a small nod of his head.

"Tactical, prepare to fire on the Captain's order, all weapons at the lead vessel," Hans stated, turning his attention squarely on the tactical officer.

Another spark shot across the room, missing John by inches, but nothing would dissuade him from his plan. "Helm, now!"

The ship lurched as it started to turn in an anticlockwise motion. John felt the creaks in the new ship, as started a manoeuvre that she was not suppose to be able to complete. He attempted to subside the feeling of nausea by watching the view screen that was firmly fixed on their pursuers and kept on his feet only by the aid of the edge of the helm station. John smiled as the Gorn ships flew past the Nightingale, slowing down, but not able to react fast enough in his planned change in direction. As the Nightingale completed a third spin, the Gorn were fully in front of the Nightingale, he patted on Chloe's shoulder to stop the spinning and turned to Shrak on the upper part of the bridge. "Tactical," John said calmly, "Fire at will."

Shrak smiled mercilessly as activated the weapon systems, blowing apart the lead Gorn vessel; the other two peeling off from the formation and attempting a regroup to run for their concentrated lines. John shook his head at Hans, letting him know that he had no intention of following them. He did not want to risk to get caught out in an overzealous charge, like the ones he had taken advantage of already.

John went back to his chair and sat down, before he could give the order to resume their course to the centre of the lines, John felt the bridge shake from underneath him. He fell off his chair as he noticed several other officers did. Lieutenant Visitor was thrown so far backwards from an explosion at her console that she landed near John. He reached her neck, checking her pulse, but a groan for her confirmed she was still alive.

"Hans, take the helm," John shouted taking a look around the deck; the bridge had various fires and a few crewmen sporting wounds. Shrak still stood at tactical and Torlik was still at his station, however it looked as if his arm had been caught in an explosion, with blood now dripping from it.

As Hans reached for the helm's station, Lieutenant Visitor rolled over and pushed herself off the floor, squeezing herself between the Geckonian and the navigational control station. John stared on as she looked at his executive officer. "I can take my post sir," she said, she looked as if she was in pain.

"Lieutenant," John shouted, "Get yourself down to the medical deck now."

"With all due respect sir," she shouted, "You need your best pilot at the helm. Give me a chance"

John nodded at her and took his seat back in the command chair, Hans quickly moved over to another crewmember to help them. "Report?" John ordered above the sound of flames being extinguished in the background.

"We've taken on damage sir," Torlik replied, "Hull breaches on deck two, shields are down to twenty percent."

"The Gorn having changed tactics sir, they've gone for a swarm tactic, several of them and Geckonian vessels are now fighting around us," Shrak shouted, her voice saturated with adrenaline, something John recognised instantly.

Another rock of the bridge shook John in his chair; he looked around the burning bridge and wondered how long he could hang on in the battle. With the fighting now becoming a melee, he was losing control quickly as ships on both sides were closing in on each other to point blank range. The tactic favoured the Gorn best.

Another explosion on the bridge sent a crewman flying near Hans, the face of the woman covered in blood.

"Tactical keep firing all weapons, try to hit as many of those damn things as possible," John shouted, "Helm, we need to keep the Gorn vessels off our shields, evasive pattern omega, get us to the outer regions of the battle area."

Chloe nodded, moving a strand of her brown hair to the side that had fallen from its normally perfectly placed spot behind her ear. John felt the lurch of the ship as she complained from the pain of moving in such a way.

Another explosion set a console on fire in the tactical station. Shrak was unhurt, but she didn't look best pleased.

"I've lost weapon control," she announced, "We're toothless sir." She sounded more frustrated than anything.

"Shields are offline, we're losing long range sensors," Torlik shouted, "We've got hull breaches on decks three, four and seven. Emergency force fields are holding but I don't know how long for."

John notice Hans attempting to conduct triage on the crewman who had the facial burns, John wondered if it was worth it now, it was only a matter of time before the Gorn would finish them off. But John didn't feel like going down without a fight on this occasion.

"Helm, set a collision course for the nearest Gorn ship and..." John was about to give the order to engage when Williams interrupted him from the other side of the room.

"Sir the Gorn are breaking off their attack," the young science officer shouted from across the bridge from his little station alcove.

John rushed over to the console and looked at the sensor data, "Why?" was all John could bring himself to ask.

"I'm detecting a warp field wake but not much else," Williams stated. With the sensors down, it would be hard to tell what anything was, Williams able to give that much detail was either a testimony to his skills or a sign of his optimism.

John looked across to his Andorian tactical officer, who was panting, leaning over her console, "Could it be reinforcements for the Gorn?"

"Negative," Shrak paused for a second looking at the Captain, "They had the upper hand. Why would they not continue pushing their advantage?"

"More Geckonian vessels?" Hans asked rising himself from his patient he had relented care for to Doctor Castello who had just arrived on the bridge.

"No sir," replied Williams, "There were no ships in that area of Geckonian space. Their trajectory suggests..." Williams paused for a moment, he looked surprised. After checking his readings a couple of times he turned round to face the captain with an astonished look on his face. "It's Stafleet sir."

John raised an eyebrow in scepticism, "Already?"

Williams only nodded.

"We are being hailed," Torlik announced from across the bridge.

John nodded and turned to face the view screen as a familiar face suddenly filled the screen with a beaming grin. "_Captain Wilcox_," the Captain of the USS Hood, Captain Robert DeSoto greeted John with a sort of warm affection, despite the two of them had only once briefly met, "_What kind of mess did you get yourself into?_ "

"A special kind," John joking replied, giving a cheeky smile, "I take it we can thank you for getting those Gorn to run?"

DeSoto nodded, "_We told them that if they wanted to be hit from two sides at once; then keep on firing, otherwise run like hell_." DeSoto's voice had a certain hidden danger about itself. His thinning grey hair may have made him look like the nice elderly uncle he was often called by junior officers who had started their careers under him. But he had a reputation as a keen tactician and a ruthless negotiator. There was no doubt in John's mind that DeSoto had scared the Gorn witless.

John smiled and sighed at the same time, relief that the battle was over and lasting safety were now very close, "What you got coming in?" John asked, "I've lost just about everything but life support and the hull."

"_We've got twenty four ships_," DeSoto claimed smiling, "_Just enough to get the Gorn second guessing themselves_."

John smiled, twenty four ships was a large number for a rescue of such a small crewed ship. "We could do with some repair crews over here Captain," John stated, he didn't want to directly ask for help but he had to admit he did need it.

"_I'll send over what I can Captain_." DeSoto stated, "_We'll be with you in five minutes, until then, stay in your current position_."

John nodded and with that the communications link was cut, a star field replacing the shot of the experienced captain on the screen.

"Lieutenant Visitor and Ensign Torlik, get yourselves down to sickbay now. Commander Hans, take the helm and hold position," John ordered, taking his seat at the bridge as the shift in positions of the bridge occurred from Chloe and Torlik leaving their stations and replacements taking their places. As the euphoria of surviving the battle washed over him like a wave on a sandy beach, John closed his eyes for a second and took in a deep breath. He would get his crew out and home.


	24. Chapter 24

**Stardate 53148.5**

_**Captain's Log**: It has been two days since the Nightingale has returned back to Federation space. We have taken up residence at starbase one one two as we conduct major repairs from the battle damage we received. According to the Station repair crews and V'ras, we have a three week layoff while we get to our design specifications. Command has agreed with my proposal to increase the standard crew of the Saint Bernard class ships to seventy five personnel, with operations, engineering and security departments getting more crewmembers. Replacement crewmembers for the men and women we lost are being arranged; however I know that some members of the Brave's crew who we rescued will be staying on._

_Command attempted to reclaim Lieutenant Visitor. I was able to persuade them that she was better off staying on the Nightingale. They eventually agreed, though it took some help from my old superior officer and friend Admiral Jenkins. I was able to get two members of my senior staff promoted._

**Stardate 53148.5**

**USS Nightingale - Docked at Starbase One One Two - Captain's Quarters**

John sat at his desk reading the latest repair schedule that had somehow sneaked its way onto his desk. During the next twenty four hours, according to the report, the hull breaches on deck two were to be sealed up. The last two days the breaches on other planets had been sealed, but deck two had taken the most damage. It was also the site where four people were sucked into space. Though John regretted the loss of life, three of those killed were the Gorn when the Brig decompressed. The crewman lost, Crewman Ulysian Gretelic, was the only person killed in the last battle, though there were many injuries.

John threw his head onto the head rest on the back of the chair and looked up at the blank grey ceiling. He had about a hundred personnel reports to look at in order to choose replacements for his crew. One of his priorities was the engineering crew; they were missing four personnel now, including an officer. Lieutenant Regluan had decided to stay on as assistant chief engineer and John had to admit that the man was a brilliant engineer and an excellent counter balance for V'ras' slow methodical pace that he seemed to like.

John couldn't help but blur each name into the next and the previous one. None stood out to him particularly, but he had asked Hans to look over the list and pick out his shortlist to help him narrow down his final selection. As he thought about the problems of choosing the right crew, his door chimed. "Enter."

Hans walked into the room with a large padd in his right hand. John looked up and smiled. "Is that your shortlist?" John asked raising both eyebrows sarcastically. If John had glimpsed correctly, it was a long list.

"I have reduced the list by fifty percent," Hans replied calmly, "I was hoping that you would be able to get your final decision from this list." Hans placed the list on the small desk, the clunk of the metals connecting vibrated through the whole desk.

"Well you've got more time it seems to get that list down," John said smiling at Hans.

"I don't understand," Hans replied cocking his head to the side, "I should be returning to my duties on the Starbase."

"Command have approved my plans," John replied, he grabbed a box from underneath his table that he had hidden down there, "I need that black pip of yours Commander," John continued opening up the box showing a gold pip, one that would make Lieutenant Commander Hans into a full fledge commander.

"I'm being promoted?"

John nodded, "You don't seem pleased? Is there something wrong?"

"I wasn't expecting to stay on the Nightingale sir," Hans replied slowly, "I thought I would be transferred back to the Starbase, especially now we seem to be having to co-ordinate all Geckonian and Federation military vessels in this area."

John nodded, "We did discuss you taking up the executive officer's position permanently during the mission. I thought this would please you?"

Hans looked up, giving a wide smile, John was relieved to see it, "I am pleased sir, just surprised. Not all commanding officers are able to keep promises."

"I intend to," John said.

Hans took his black pip with the gold trim off his collar and placed it on the Captain's desk, where he picked up the full gold pip and placed it next to the other two pips on his collar. John stood up and extended his hand with a wide smile.

"Congratulations Commander," John offered. Hans took his hand and nodded politely, "Now, as your first order as the official first officer of the Nightingale is to oversee the repair crews on deck two, make sure that they follow the ships precise specifications, I don't want to have to memorise a new design." Hans nodded and was about to leave the room when John held up his hand, "Can you send in Ensign Torlik as well." Hans gave John a curious look, but nodded as he left.

A moment later another chime brought in Ensign Torlik. John was sitting down again now looking over a padd, which contained the details of the device that Torlik had designed and implemented on the Nightingale. Even though at first it had not worked perfectly, it had been developed further by other crewmembers on the ship and it was reported to John that the device should have worked, if Torlik have had more time before the battle. Of course Torlik had not asked for permission to install the equipment, nor had he given any details about the device, he had essentially kept it to himself, for what reason, John did not know.

Torlik stood rigid at attention as John finished reading the report that V'ras had completed on the device. John looked up, trying to portray a neutral tone in his expression.

"I have a problem ensign," John broke the uncomfortable silence with.

"Sir," Torlik replied.

"I can't have officers going off on their own, building equipment and installing it without permission or letting anyone else know what they are doing," John continued. Even he could sense the anger in his voice. Torlik had not exactly done something that had endangered the ship, in fact quite the opposite. However he had not followed procedures. However with his record in the Starfleet as it was, his actions fitted his profile.

"I'm sorry sir," replied Torlik, "But I thought that if I had suggested the device you would not have allowed it, am I right?"

John sighed as he got up from his chair and walked the short way across the room; he looked at the old operations officer and sighed again. "Yes you are probably right," John had to admit, he would definitely have had to think three of four times before he would have allowed any equipment designed by Torlik to be installed. "But you still should follow procedures."

Torlik nodded, "Hopefully now you could learn to trust me Captain."

John smiled, "According to your personnel report, you are a person who is constantly doing things without asking permission. Your black mark is specifically aimed at not following orders or procedures." Torlik looked slightly uneasy at what John was saying, shifting his head from the wall near to John to the floor. "What the hell happened on the Victory?"

Torlik looked up from the floor and nervously shifted his feet about the floor, "I can't say anything sir, Starfleet intelligence have classified the whole incident."

"Why?" To John it seemed completely absurd that intelligence had classified a simple battle that had happened two decades ago. John couldn't help but wonder why.

"I can't answer that sir."

"Damn it," John said slamming his fist onto the table, "I wouldn't tell anyone Ensign."

"I'm sorry sir, but duty says that I must not breach the confident manner," Torlik gave a small smile.

To John the response was something of a mixed bag. It proved that Torlik was loyal to Starfleet and the Federation, that he would follow orders that he was given. But it also showed him that his operations officer was not fully to be trusted, that he may have other loyalties. Despite that, John knew that Torlik had saved his life and the rest of the people on the Nightingale, he deserved a reward.

"Ensign," John said, "In regard to your actions in the end there is only one thing I can say: well done." Torlik looked up surprised. "I have to admit that you are an excellent officer, but you need to follow procedures better. It took me a short while to realise what you needed to properly say well done." John pushed forward the black pip forward on the desk towards his Denobulan operations officer. "Congratulations Lieutenant." John smiled at the officer was speechless.

Torlik picked up the black pip cautiously, looking at it for a while as if he was a Ferengi and it was gold pressed latinum. He looked up at John and gave a wide smile, "Thank you Captain."

John nodded and pressed a button on the table opening up the door to his office, "Now Lieutenant, you need to see the repairs of the ship."

Torlik walked out the door and it shut quietly behind him. John sat down quietly smiling slightly, he had obviously made the officers day. Now he had to go back to the dull job of selecting new crew.

**Stardate 53149.8**

**USS Nightingale - Docked at Starbase One One Two - Deck Two, Lieutenant Shrak and Visitor's Quarters**

Shrak lay on the bottom bunk staring up at the holographic image of her family in front of the grand home on Andor. She missed her home at times; she was fonder of its andorian ivory staircase than of the grey metal that adorned her quarters now. At home she had a whole room to herself, now she shared. At her grand mansion she had a whole dressing room that contained thousands of clothes, now in her small draw and locker she had three work uniforms, one dress uniform, a workout uniform and two casual garments. Shrak thought it was barely enough to keep a young girl satisfied, and she knew she wasn't as bad as some human females who were absolutely obsessed with clothes.

Shrak had noticed that Lieutenant Visitor was one of those human females who liked to collect clothes. While Shrak had a small collection on ship, and found it difficult to store them all, Chloe seemed to have six or seven casual dresses and outfits which she somehow stored in her small storage space. Shrak had wanted to look into her cupboard to see if some sort of space dilation device was in use, however she had been unable to crack her roommate's code while Chloe was under observation in sickbay.

Now Chloe was out of the medical care she had been in for the past week and was probably going to back any moment from her first duty shift since the battle. Shrak felt a strange sense of apprehension, a mixture of longing for the girl who had shown considerable skill as a pilot during the first mission of the Nightingale. Her thoughts wondered back to those which she had when she was watch officer over a week ago. Nothing had changed, Chloe's body still seemed pleasing and Shrak still felt the compulsion to have some fun. Deep down she saw it as nothing more than a diversion from normal mundane duties, but at the forefront of her mind she craved the young girl.

As the doors to their shared quarters slide open, she saw Chloe walk in and immediately remove her tunic as she greeted Shrak in a friendly tone. Shrak smiled, her cheeks turn a deep shade of blue as she greeted the girl back. Shrak admired the curves of the beautiful girl as they were presented to her as she dressed herself into something more, 'colourful'.

**Stardate 53149.8**

**USS Nightingale - Docked at Starbase One One Two - Deck One, Commander Hawke's Quarters**

John entered the quarters of his former executive officer with a glum look on his face. The quarters were soon to become that of Commander Hans, his new first officer. Before that could happen, his quarters and office had to be cleared by personnel, so it could be converted into something that was compatible to Hans. As John looked around he could see Lieutenant Commander Burton quietly sitting on the bed holding a padd in her hand and tears rolling down her face. Also in a room was a crewman who was clearing the personnel effects, oblivious to the crying officer behind him.

"You're dismissed crewman," John said. The crewman stood up to attention and walked out of the room when John nodded to him. As soon as the young man was out of the room John looked at Burton who had now moved her attention to him. "You okay Commander?"

Rachel lifted the padd to make it more prevalent, "It's a letter home from Dan to his parents," she said, "Its a few years old, but he kept a copy of it."

"Must have meant something to him then," John said, he tried not to get emotionally involved in this conversation, he had already 'gone off the rails' over his death, he would not try to go down that path again.

"It's about our engagement," she said offhandedly, as if it didn't mean anything.

John sighed, "I didn't know you were engaged."

"No one suppose to know," Rachel replied quietly, "However I guess he couldn't keep it from his mum."

"Sons are like that," John replied smiling, "He was obviously very happy about the prospect of you two marrying."

"I called it off," Rachel said, "Because I was worried about one of us being hurt." Rachel placed her hands over her eyes and began to weep again. "Is... it... so wrong... to worry... about such things."

"Yes and no," John said, trying to show some compassion, but had yet had to admit that he did not think the same. "Some people need the connection despite the risks; other people feel it would compromise them. It is what suits the person." John knelt beside her and placed his hand on her knee. She stopped her crying and looked down at the Captain, "It will take time to recover, but you will one day feel better about this. The best thing you can do is to remember him as he would want to be remembered, as a person who loved you." John gave another slight smile of reassurance; Rachel returned a good attempt, but not a brilliant reply in kind.

John patted her knee, "If you want I could assign Commander Hans to this role," John offered, "He has the necessary clearance."

Rachel shook her head.

"Okay, then carry on Commander," John replied standing up and heading for the door.

"One second captain," Rachel suddenly said, John turned round and looked at the doctor, "I found this." She passed him an isolinear chip with some writing on the side of it. "When I tried to open it on the computer it was encrypted."

John looked at the writing on the side and read it in his head, 'iUSS Victor logs - Ensign Torlik data - Level 10 Encryption./i'

"Thank you Doctor," John said quietly before he left the room. Dan, before his death, had found something out in regards to Torlik and found it necessary to encrypt the data. But what was on that chip.


End file.
